The X Force
by Sheherazade's Fable
Summary: Final sequel to All We Are and Sins of the Father. As the X-Men struggle with Jean's death the reserve X-Force team struggles as one of their own accepts a cabinet position and Xavier finds his nephew. Starts after X2. Canon pairings, no OC's.
1. Chapter 1

_June 12, 1970_

It was his fault, just like every horrible thing that had ever befallen his family. Seven years had passed without incident and then he'd spoken at that rally. He should have known to postpone their visit but it was summer, and they always alternated between the school and Muir Island for summer.

The last time he had seen his wife and son they had been going into town. He hadn't given it much thought. Two hours later he had received the phone call that had made his heart stop beating. The Friends of Humanity had long been his bane; the X-men had even secretly dealt with some of the more radical factions. Now one of those factions had his family.

He'd wasted no time in gathering Ororo, Jean, Scott, Doug, and Rahne, the second wave of the X-men, together. Alex was there too, overseeing them. There were codenames for the young teens but he couldn't bring himself to remember them at the moment. Either way they were all in the plane now; only their second mission and their first time in the Blackbird.

Charles reached for the psychic line that connected him to his son. It trembled and wavered, indistinct. David was too scared to tell him anything besides the location they were held at. Although he had powerful potential he was small; only eight. All he had felt from him was his fear for the past hour. Any soothing feelings he'd passed on were swallowed up. He knew nothing of Moira. She was too far away for him to contact her. If they had been hurt …

"Dropping in two minutes. Wolfsbane and Sc-Cyclops, you're the first wave," said Alex, "Storm, lower them down. After the shock value you, Cypher, and Marvel Girl should follow as the rear guard. I'll land with the Professor after that. Get in, get the hostages, and get out **as fast as possible**. Standard procedure. Got it?"

The teens nodded. The hatch of the Blackbird opened and Ororo, Rahne, and Scott unbuckled their harnesses. Rahne and Scott jumped as Ororo leaned out and let the wind guide them down. She waited a minute before gesturing to Doug and Jean. Together the three of them leapt out of the hatch.

Alex flipped a button and the hatch door closed. He guided the plane over to a landing spot and set it down. Unbuckling he turned over his shoulder and asked;

"Sure you wanna go out there Professor?"

"Imagine if it was Lorna or Scott," said Charles, his voice sharp.

His former student nodded once before lowering the ramp. He grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and pushed him out. Charles expected, upon leaving the plane, to find his students engaged with the militant members of the Friends of Humanity. Instead he found them gathered around the steps to the house that they'd come upon. All of them looked both confused and concerned.

"What is it?" demanded Alex, pushing him through the cluster, "You're supposed to be-"

He stopped abruptly. Charles stared and felt his heart contort. On the steps to the house were two men. Ski masks covered most of their faces but he could see their eyes. They were open and vacant, staring up at the sky with blood seeping from them. Blood also trickled from their ears, combining onto the pavement beneath them. Charles looked to the confused X-men.

"You found them like this?" he asked.

They nodded.

"Nothing else?"

Rahne hesitated.

"I'm…I'm hearing something," she said, rubbing her shifted wolf ear, "It's faint, but it's like a thumping, banging noise from inside the house. And…I think pleading."

All eyes swiveled to the door. Alex cracked his neck and blasted it from his chest plate. Wood splinters filled the air.

"Let's go figure it out."

They moved in, standard formation. It looked like any other house on the inside. To Charles' discomfort three more bodies were found scattered throughout the house; dead like the ones outside. There wasn't any trace of David or Moira and his concern grew by the second.

No one could seem to find the origin of what Rahne's feral senses were picking up. It wasn't until Scott found and opened a trap door that anyone other than her could hear it. Instead of stairs a ramp led downwards, something he was grateful for since it allowed him to follow them. A passage with two more bodies led to a main room closed off by a door. The thumping was louder inside and a muffled but panicked voice could be heard.

"Please, please, it's okay, it's okay. Please stop. Please…"

Charles tried to push himself forward.

"It's Moira," he said, "Open the door!"

Without a second of hesitation Scott touched his goggles and blasted the door open. Inside were three more corpses. Moira was there, barely noticing the rescuers, simply continuing her pleas. In her arms was David, struggling and flailing his limbs in the thrall of a seizure. Completely horrified Charles realized for the first time what the thumping noises were; his small son was trying to bash his head in on the floor.

* * *

><p><em>13 years later.<em>

The trip from Washington to New York was a quiet one. Jean's death had silenced them. He could see that Scott was all but broken and something had snapped in Logan too. Ororo had just lost her closest friend, and the younger children had lost a teacher. He himself had lost a student whom he'd seen grow up in his school.

The young mutant who'd introduced himself as Kurt Wagner seemed awash in all the grief. He had known Jean for only a short time, but his muttered prayers showed that he was concerned. Charles found himself wondering about Kurt. His curiosity wasn't how he'd fallen into Stryker's hands originally though. It was the uncanny resemblance he bore to someone else. It was something he'd have to look into.

As they approached the school he wondered what they would find there. The idea that they might have to battle an occupying force at the school was hard to swallow. After everything they had been through that day none of them were in any condition to fight. Charles forced his own feelings down; he would have to be strong for them.

So it was a bit of a surprise that, when they landed, several children were running out of the school to the plane in various states of dress. Several of them were cheering, ushered into a semblance of order by a woman with a tangle of red hair. He peered at her through the window; trying to remember who she was. When it clicked inside his head he raised his eyebrow.

"Feel free to lower the ramp Ororo," he said, "The school's secure."

She looked at him doubtfully. Although he knew the very idea of her childhood sanctuary being invaded had shocked her deeply and made her cautious he didn't have the time to explain. Charles was tempted to just tell her telepathically, but it wasn't his way. He sighed and tapped the glass.

"Do you see that woman?" he asked, "With the red hair?"

Ororo nodded.

"She wouldn't be here if it wasn't safe," he said, "The school's secure."

With a sigh she did as he said. The rescued children ran down the ramp first into the waiting throngs of their peers. Rogue and Bobby followed them, shifting their feet awkwardly. Scott watched them leave dispassionately, swallowing a few times. He hadn't even unbuckled since they landed.

"Scott?" asked Ororo gently.

"Leave 'im be," Logan said gruffly before storming off the plane.

She gave another doubtful look at him. Charles nodded at her; the last thing Scott needed was to go into a cheering crowd. Seeing his assent Ororo moved over and, with Kurt's assistance, helped Charles into a fold-out wheelchair that they'd found onboard the plane. Hank had thought of everything when he'd rebuilt the Blackbird.

Ororo pushed him down the ramp with Kurt by her side, seemingly awkward in his new position. A few children did point at him when he came down, but for the most part he passed without comment. There were too many visible mutants for him to make a large splash by his appearance. He seemed to notice this and smiled tentatively.

"If you could direct me to the woman with the red hair," Charles said, "And Mr. Wagner?"

Kurt blinked at him.

"If you would follow us," he said.

The young mutant nodded as Charles' wheelchair veered in the direction of the woman. She smiled tiredly at thier approach.

"Long time no see," she said.

"I'd say so Mrs. Cassidy," he replied, "And what brings you here?"

Maeve Rourke Cassidy jerked her head up to the school.

"My husband," she said, "I was worried about Terry and…"

Charles noticed the way her eyes hardened. Maeve's anger rolled off her in waves. Charles wondered if her daughter had somehow been hurt.

"…I wasn't taking no for an answer when we heard the school was in danger."

He nodded in understanding. So they had heard. It didn't surprise him. It was what they were for; to defend where the X-men couldn't be. And, although Sean had taken a position at Interpol, he knew where he would be when push came to shove. The same went for his other two former students. He had trained them well; perhaps too well.

"How is young Theresa?" he asked.

"Shot with a tranquilizer in the neck," said Maeve, "She's still a little dazed; sleeping it off. Her father checked on her a few minutes ago."

"That's good. And I would be able to find Sean…?" he asked, his voice trailing off.

"In your office with the rest," Maeve replied, "They're waiting for you."

With a sigh he gestured to Ororo to take him there. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Logan say something to Rogue and turn away. He was making a beeline for Charles, following them into the school. It appeared that no matter how much had happened his day wasn't anywhere near over yet.

The door to the mansion had been left open. Feeling desolate he saw how much destruction had been done to the lobby alone. The staircase had been decimated and a few tables turned over. He wondered how long it would take to fix it all and felt like despairing. The mansion hadn't required this much renovation since it had first been transformed into a school.

He drank in the further damage as they went down the hall. He found fingernail scrapings on the wall. At one point he imagined that blood had stained the carpet. At least it had been cleaned up. If Sean's daughter had been among the children hurt then he couldn't imagine that the soldiers had been treated gently.

Charles pressed the button to his office, allowing the door to open. Lorna, Alex, and Sean were sitting at the chairs in front of the desk, talking in low voices. They stopped abruptly when the Professor came in, pushing their chairs back. He saw Alex frown when Logan and Kurt walked in behind him. Kurt shrank away and Logan's eyes narrowed in turn.

"Logan, Mr. Wagner," said Charles, "I'd like you to meet some of my first students. They act as an adjunct to the X-men. It's a team called the X-Force for situations such as this. I believe they already know Ororo."

They nodded and Ororo took a respectful place towards the end of his desk. She dipped her head in acknowledgement to the men and women who had been her former teachers at one point or another, while Logan only grunted. He heard Kurt murmur something unintelligible in German before moving to a corner of the room. Charles noted that he practically blended in with the shadows there.

"This is Mr. Wagner, our guest," Charles said, "And Logan who will be joining us."

Logan looked at him in surprise and then suspicion.

"I didn't read your mind," he said, "You came back. That says enough."

He redirected his attention to his former students.

"I'm glad you came, and from what I see liberated the school," Charles said.

"The soldiers are tied up in the basement," Lorna said helpfully.

Charles smiled to himself.

"Again, I'm happy for your aid," he said, "Although I am puzzled as to how you know."

Sean put his hands in his pockets. He was never the first one to start a debriefing. And, no matter how old they were, that was what the conversation was. Next to him Lorna was staring at Logan, her face scrunched in concentration. Logan didn't like it but she didn't stop. Her husband seemed oblivious to her discomfort. Alex gave a cold glance towards Logan and Kurt before saying;

"Legion told us."

Briefly he closed his eyes. Of course. The psychic link that they had built over the years would have let him know something was wrong the minute he was captured.

"He wanted to come," said Sean, "But we know you told him he should stay in Washington with Beast. Volatile situation and all. Wasn't easy to convince him, let me tell you."

The codenames were strange, but it was obvious that they didn't trust Kurt or Logan yet. Better to err on the side of caution in their minds.

"Yes, he always was stubborn," Charles said.

Even as the words left his lips a universal smirk passed between the three of them. All of them knew that his son got that from both of his parents.

"He um, he said that Scott appeared in your thoughts moments before you were taken," Alex said, forming his words carefully, "Is he okay?"

It was the question he'd been dreading.

"Physically, yes."

"What do you mean?" asked Alex.

He took a deep breath. The words he was about to say were harder to say than to know.

"Jean Grey is dead," he said.

Alex sat down again, looking shell shocked. Almost immediately Lorna put a hand on his shoulder. Sean just looked down at the ground.

"I...I should go see him," Alex said.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you bub," Logan said.

Looking up Alex seemed to remember Logan was still there. His gaze hardened again.

"You know, Scott told me there was some guy hanging around at the school with an attitude problem and claws," Alex said, "So far I've seen one of the two."

Logan let his claws come out of his hands.

"How's two for two?" he snapped.

Alex snorted. Lorna simply cocked her head.

"So that's what that was," she murmured to herself.

Charles saw that it was the presence of the strange metal that had been bothering her. It didn't matter much though. He raised a hand to ward off the fight that was brewing.

"Logan, now is not the time," he said, "Although I agree with what you say. Alex, Scott needs to be left alone at the moment."

The claws slid back and Logan looked away at the mention of Scott's name. There was a great deal of guilt that Logan held over Scott and Jean in general. It was guilt that had formed from pursuing the woman who'd been with Scott, the woman who was now dead, whose body they couldn't even retrieve. He didn't have to be a telepath to tell that.

"You may speak to him later Alex," Charles said, "I thank you for your prompt reaction time and for protecting my students. I would ask that you stay for a few days longer; we have a trying time ahead of us."

"Don't mention it," said Sean, hearing the dismissal in the subtext and getting up, "I need to go find Maeve. And I can't leave Terry alone for too long."

He shot a look at Lorna and jerked his head towards the door. Lorna gently guided her husband up and out of the room. She paused in the doorframe.

"By the way," she said, "When Alex said Legion told everyone on Muir Island, he meant **everyone**."

She gave him a pointed look and the door clicked shut.

"What's that mean?" asked Logan.

"Nothing," Charles said, rubbing his temples, "Just that I have a few calls to make. I would ask that you and Ororo also leave the room. I need to have a few words with Mr. Wagner. Alone."

Logan grunted and shoved the door open. Ororo looked at Charles curiously but followed. He waited for it to shut before turning to Kurt. From the corner he heard him cough.

"If zis is about ze President I-" Kurt started.

"It is not," Charles said, "I was nearly a recipient of Stryker's mind-control serum myself."

He sighed and gestured to a seat. Kurt sat in it, moving his tail before he did so.

"I'm more interested in what you intend to do once you're pardoned," he said.

Kurt stared at him, uncomprehending.

"I didn't forget to put files about how Stryker engineered the assassination attempt in the dossier I handed the President," said Charles, "I'm not remiss. Your plans Mr. Wagner."

Still looking confused Kurt started to swish his tail behind him.

"I do not know if I vill go back to ze circus," he said after a time, "I do not even know vhere zey are."

"You are always welcome to stay here if you wish," said Charles.

Looking worried Kurt swished his tail a little harder.

"I do not know about zat," he confessed, "I am a man of peace. Vhat…vhat I saw vith Ms. Grey…I do not know if I can pursue zat life vith the X-men, although I am grateful for all zat you haf done."

Charles understood. He often wondered what he himself had come to; actively allowing his students to battle terrorists.

"There is no rush to decide," he said, "But before you go, if you do go, there is something that I would like to find out. Namely your parentage."

Kurt's tail stopped swishing.

"I…the Vagners?" he asked.

"Were those your birth parents?" asked Charles.

He shook his head.

"I do not know who my real parents are. Zhoze,…zhoze vere my adopted parents."

That sounded about right. Charles tapped his fingers on his desk.

"I suspected so," Charles said, "Do you know how the Wagners came across you in the first place?"

Familiar golden eyes blinked at him. The eyes weren't the only familiar parts. Even the color of his skin hadn't convinced him; mutations did repeat. There was something about the structure of his face and jawline. His nose in particular reminded him of Raven. He had learned his lesson with Lorna about ignoring similarities.

"Zey told me zat zey found me abandoned in a vell," Kurt said softly.

Kurt's words reverberated throughout him, shaking him to his core. Deep within the his heart the image of his little sister as she had been faded a little more. She had become the type of woman who would abandon her son in a well? His chest contorted in pain and he had to swallow to hide it.

"I see," he said, "Kurt, I don't want you to mislead you but I have a suspicion who your mother might be. With your permission I would like to do a DNA test to prove it. But I warn you; you may not like what you hear."

Beneath the chair Kurt's tail started swishing again. Charles wondered if the mutant would even want to hear about the people who'd abandoned him in a well.

"I vould…I vould like to know zat…" he said tentatively, "I vill stay for zat."

A ripple of relief passed through him.

"Thank you Mr. Wagner," said Charles, wondering if the mutant in front of him could indeed be his nephew, "The guest rooms are up the stairs and to the right. You may have any of the unoccupied ones."

Kurt nodded and disappeared from the room in a flash of smoke. Charles pushed away from his desk. There was so much to do with and for his students, both current and former. However, all of those things could wait. There were more people he needed to contact as soon as possible. Pushing a button that opened the door he wheeled himself towards the elevator that would lead to his room.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_It's great to be back! Just a few notes about this chapter. The scene at the beginning is based on something that happened to David in the comics. Rest assured, what exactly happened will be thoroughly explained later. As for the mention of Sean's daughter, she was actually in X-Men United. When the soldiers are invading the mansion one of the kids bolts up in her bed and screams. She wakes everyone in the mansion up and continues to scream until a tranquilizer dart hits her in her neck. I looked it up; that's Theresa Rourke Cassidy, daughter of Sean and Maeve Cassidy, Deadpool's girlfriend, and later in life known as the X-Force leader Siryn. I love cameos!_


	2. Chapter 2

Senator Hank McCoy of New York, the first mutant senator, rubbed his temples. They had all been under a great deal of stress in the past few days.

"I'm not threatening you," Hank said, "I am simply stating the facts. If you press charges against the mutants at the Drake residence then the court case would go badly. It would just be easier on everyone if we could settle this quietly; grant amnesty. No bad publicity for anyone then."

There was a pause and he tapped his claws against the surface of his desk. His aide watched him carefully, a sheaf of papers collected on his clipboard.

"The police department wouldn't get any bad publicity? Really. I'm sure the defense lawyer would mention how powers were only brought to the table after the their teacher and guardian had been shot," said Hank, "Which, coincidentally, was a use of deadly force since he shot to kill. If he didn't have an advanced healing factor he certainly would have died. And before that they'll have to say that Ronald Drake had falsely called the police on the group, three of which were minors. That's a felony, falsely calling the police. A criminal record at such a young age isn't desired by anyone. Like I said; it would be easier to settle it now."

He waited for a few more minutes and then smiled.

"Yes, it's been a pleasure doing business with you Comissioner. Charges dismissed on all accounts," said Hank, "Thank you for your time."

Smiling with satisfaction Hank hung up the phone. His aide gave him an answering smile.

"It looks like that's been taken care of," he said.

"We can only hope so," Hank said, "There are still a few missives to fill out. A few forms to send out for the kids."

He reached for a bundle of papers on his desk but his aide snatched them out of his reach.

"I can handle that," he said, "You're meeting Ms. Trilby in half an hour."

Hank moaned.

"I'd forgotten that," he said, getting up and grabbing his coat, "I swear you're the reason I remember my head sometimes."

"Impossible," David Xavier said, "I've only been your aide for two years."

"Still, after everything we've been through you've managed to do the work of four people twice your age," Hank said, "I have to congratulate you for keeping yourself together during this latest crisis. And they said I was mad for hiring a nineteen year old aide."

David knew they'd said that; he'd heard them think it. He wasn't going to be excluded from the course of history just because of his age though.

"I'm glad I proved them wrong," David said, "Now-"

_Good to see that you're keeping yourself busy. _

He had to stifle a cry of relief. Swallowing once he smiled.

"Incoming call Uncle Hank," said David, touching his temples.

"It's-?" started Hank.

"Yes, and he's fine as far as I can tell," he said.

Hank gave him a relieved nod and continued on his way. David sank down on a nearby chair and closed his eyes.

_I was worried about you_, he thought, _Very worried. I…I couldn't feel you anymore. _

Ever since he was little he had been able to contact his father anytime he wanted through his telepathy. Thier range hadn't seemed to have any limits. It had been how he had come to be close with his father despite the distance that separated them. He had a similar connection to his mother; however it was on a much more limited level. He could only send a few words and the occasional image.

To be cut off for the first time was worrying and shocking. He had known his father was still alive, he could feel that. The line hadn't disappeared entirely but the damper had been enough to give him a migraine. Swallowing his fear he had run off to call for the X-Men and, when he couldn't find them, the X-Force.

_I know. But it's over. Stryker is dead. _

_We heard. Nice maneuvering with the President, _thought David, _It always surprised me that you never tried for political office. _

_I'll leave the politics to you and Hank. _

_Well, in that case I'd like to inform you that those students who were found at the Drake residence were pardoned. _

_That's one thing settled, _his father thought.

_One among many, _shrugged David, _There's so much to do. This has turned out different than I had thought. They were going to make amendments to the Registration Act that included_-

David stopped. He could feel his father's confusion and curiosity from the other end of the connection.

_David?_

He didn't want to say what he knew. However, he knew his father wasn't letting it go.

_David, what?_

_They were going to introduce legislation banning marriage between a mutant and non-mutant, _thought David in a rush.

He felt his father's brief flash of anger strong and sharp. It manifested in a slight throbbing in his head. David felt that it was more than understandable. He'd been married to Moira for over two decades. No one was about to tell him that it was suddenly illegal. Hank had had a similar reaction but for different reasons. David coughed.

_But we've ridden the wave and it's flowed in our favor._

There was a pause from his father's side.

_In the battle with Stryker…we lost Jean Grey. _

David bit his lip. He remembered Jean vaguely from the few visits he had paid to the mansion when he was little. After he turned eight he had very rarely gone back . However, he knew that she had been one of his father's favorite students. He could feel the grief flowing like blood from a fresh wound. From the depths of his mind he sent as much sympathy and comfort as he could.

_I'm sorry._

_Many are. She will be greatly missed. _

The sadness cut off and he realized that his father didn't want to talk about it anymore. It had been shocking to watch helplessly as one of his students died, not something you discussed so soon after the fact. Understanding David coughed again.

_I'm glad you're safe though father. I must admit, when I first felt your panic I panicked some myself. _

_Yes. Lorna tells me that you contacted __**everyone **__on Muir Island._

David laughed, hoping it was enough to break the mood. Besides, he knew he wasn't the one his father needed to be talking to at the moment.

_Mother would have found out eventually. You'd just have made it worse by delaying it. Have you contacted her?_

Once more there was silence.

_I'd hurry up with that if I were you_, David thought.

_You're probably right. _

_I'm right most of the time, _thought David, amused, _I'll see you in the summer father._

_ I'll see you then._

* * *

><p>Moira MacTaggert cradled Charles' head in her lap. Something inside of her mind was throbbing and pounding. She hadn't expected things to go like this. She hadn't expected to find herself with the best man she'd ever met lying injured in her arms. He gasped out each breath as his blood seeped out into the sand.<p>

His eyes were looking at her, looking at his sister, looking at everything. She wanted to summon up a glare for the sister and friend who were abandoning him. Angry words would have been good too, something to scream at them as they teleported off without a thought. Yet it was all she could do not to cry the tears that Charles was struggling to keep in.

Suddenly Moira blinked.

"No," she said, "This already happened, a long time ago."

She took a deep breath.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

Charles' mask of pain fell away. The beach emptied and he took her hand.

"You do catch on quickly. It's good to see you again sweetheart," he said, kissing the back of her hand, "Although I'm surprised that, of all the memories of us together, this was the one at the top of your head."

Her eyes filled with tears. Moira threw her arms around her husband's neck, pulling him upwards to her. His arms pulled her down at the same time, allowing them to meet in the middle for a fierce kiss. He leaned into her touch and trailed kisses from her lips to below her ear. Then, with a deep sigh he nuzzled her neck.

The first time Charles had attempted to contact her through her dreams Moira had woken from the shock. He'd called her later to explain what he'd tried to do, how contacting her through her dreams allowed him to gain a greater range. With this knowledge she had gotten into the habit of picking out a memory of them together from the top of her head when she knew he'd be calling. It was easier that way, or so he told her.

She thanked God for the day he learned how to do his trick. Though they were miles apart at the moment it was like he was there with her, speaking to and holding her.

"David told me something happened," she said, her arms still wrapped tightly around him, "I wanted to go but Maeve was frantic about Terry. There were only so many seats and I knew that I couldn't-"

"It's alright," he said, "It's best that you stayed here. I missed you sweetheart."

"I missed you too Charles," said Moira, loosening her grip and touching his face, "Are you hurt? What happened? I didn't-"

"Slow down. I'll explain everything," he said, "But after we leave here."

"I'm sorry," she said, looking around the beach, "I just think of this whenever you're hurt and…"

He nodded in understanding.

"I have a memory like that too," he said softly.

The scene shifted to the lounge of the manor. It had been downtime when they were still training the students, before Erik had left. They sat down and he told her everything; Stryker, Jean, talking to the President. She listened as his voice went from explanatory to sad. She gently pulled him so his head was on her lap she could stroke his once-again present hair. If it was one thing Moira had learned through her twenty-three years of marriage it was how to give comfort without saying a word.

"There's more," he said after a time.

"What?" asked Moira.

He breathed in.

"I…the mutant that was mind controlled into attacking the President," said Charles, "He helped rescue me. His name is Kurt Wagner."

She nodded, not understanding what he was trying to say.

"Kurt…I think…I think Kurt may be Raven's son," he said.

Moira started. Her fingers paused in mid stroke.

"Why would you say that?" she asked.

He closed his eyes. An image of the young mutant materialized in the middle of the room next to an image of Mystique before blinking out of existence. However, she'd been able to see the resemblance that Charles saw. The golden eyes, the dark blue skin, even some of the less obvious traits like his facial structure. She looked down and saw the pain gathering in his eyes.

"He said he was adopted," he said, "that his foster family found him left for dead in a well."

Moira reached over and took his hand. Silently she cursed Mystique for doing this to him. She had never understood why Mystique had left Charles when he needed her most. She still struggled to understand how he could remain so attached to her. Lord knew she hadn't quite forgiven her for hurting him and kidnapping her; Moira wasn't perfect.

At the same time this was something different. This was something that hurt both Charles and this Kurt, if he was indeed her son. And she knew how Charles thought; every bad could be countered with a good. She knew he felt that he'd failed Mystique. He probably hoped that he would be able to balance that with helping her son.

Not to mention he would be family. After David the two had never been able to have children. It didn't really surprise her; David had been a miracle. Another child really would have been impossible. They had had their one in a million chance. So the addition of Kurt to their family would be like having a piece of his sister back.

Sighing she bent down and kissed his forehead.

"We'll see," she said, "and if he is our nephew then we'll make sure he's made welcome."

Charles smiled. She'd said the right thing at least.

"There's so much to do before we would be able to come," he said, "Jean's memorial service for one."

"Take all the time you need for that," Moira said, "But...just don't forget summer."

"I never do," he said, taking her hand, "I never do."


	3. Chapter 3

The helicopter made slow progress to their safe house. Erik leaned back, feeling tired. He was getting older, true enough. It was going to be increasingly difficult to go on missions as time passed. Perhaps that was why he hadn't seen Charles in the battlefield for years. Then again, Charles had been in a wheelchair for that time.

He glanced back at the boy who called himself Pyro. He'd fallen asleep a few hours ago. No one aboard had asked many questions; his willingness to leave his friends was a good indicator of his new loyalty. From what he told them he'd attended Charles' school for nearly two years. Obviously those years hadn't been enough to convince him of coexistence.

On some level it rankled. How could Pyro defect after nearly two years and his own daughter stand fast after no more than a few months? Although decades had passed he still thought of Lorna occasionally. For years he had gathered secretly scraps of information about her, wondering if her loyalties were permanent. Unfortunately time had proved that they were.

Several years ago an ignorant member of the Brotherhood, he couldn't remember who, had mentioned that he heard Havok had married Polaris. Mystique had stopped what she was doing at the time and turned an interested expression to Erik. He hadn't even twitched a facial muscle, only thinking about it hours later when he was alone.

In his own way he was glad. Although the marriage tied her closer to his enemies Alex had seemed to genuinely care for her. They would be happy; he was sure. After that his well of information had dried up. He'd instead heard reports about a new team of X-Men, names of people he'd never known; Cypher, Storm, Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Wolfsbane. In the very least he'd been blessed as to never fight Lorna, never had to harm her. Erik still didn't quite know what he would do if that situation came up.

Which was why his reaction when the situation reared its ugly head shocked even himself. It had been when they had had their machine up and running; ready to turn the U.N. into mutants. To his bitter surprise he'd realized that his age had become an issue. He couldn't run the machine himself even if his powers were the only way to make it work. Even if he was younger it would most likely kill him anyway. Mystique had tentatively suggested that since he couldn't do it, why didn't they find Lorna? She had similar powers after all. She would work.

Metal had crunched in on itself all around the room. It was the first time he'd lost control of his powers in decades. Mystique had shrunk from him then, the look in his eyes enough to silence her on the subject forever. Despite the connection between the two he'd very nearly struck her. It was a good thing that she left the room when she did.

Eventually they had found the girl who called herself Rogue. She was as close as he would come. Even then her panic when she woke and realized what was going to happen disturbed him. The fact that Mystique had mentioned Lorna made it too easy to draw a connection. Rogue was nearly Lorna's age when he first met her. More than once Mystique had quirked her eyebrow at him as he winced at her screams. He didn't deign to answer her silent questions. She didn't have children; she wouldn't understand.

After he'd been arrested he'd thought about Lorna only briefly. One day when he'd seen the guards going through the normal safety precautions he'd expected Charles. He'd sighed and, as the door began to open, walked over to the chessboard. Erik had stood, turned away from the door and his hands folded behind his back.

"Here for another game?" he asked.

"Um…no. I was never very good at it."

Erik had recognized the voice. The years had not taken his memory from him yet. He closed his eyes briefly before turning around. There, as the door started to recede, he saw his green-haired daughter staring at him. Her hair was pulled back and much of the baby fat of her teenage years had drained away. Her clothes, once consisting entirely of harsh, bright colors, had toned down a little with growing maturity. In one hand she held a thick folder, the other one was clenched nervously behind her back.

She was tense and there was something like fear in her eyes. It looked for all the world like she wanted to run the other way. The feeling was mutual.

"I didn't know so many people had access to me," he said.

Inwardly he winced at his cold words. She smiled, a small thing compared to the smiles he'd once seen her display.

"The Professor got me in. And he had to work at it for a long time," she said, "I'm pretty sure that money exchanged hands."

"I'm surprised your husband approved," Erik said.

Lorna had given another pitiful smile.

"You know about that? I shouldn't be surprised. And neither should you; he doesn't approve," she said, "But Alex knows that I wasn't taking no for answer. He doesn't own me."

Pride flared inside him; she was still the fiery girl he'd known. Her voice softened.

"It's been twenty years father," said Lorna.

Erik started. She still wanted to call him that? He remembered the first time she had given him the title. It had been as a teenage girl, not truly knowing who she was giving it to. Deep inside him the memories of the two of them on a park bench came back; talking about everything and nothing. He stepped forward and grasped a few strands of her green hair. Lorna didn't flinch.

"You cut your hair," he said, the strands only down past her shoulders.

"Only a little," Lorna replied, "It was down to my knees when I did it. I had to; the kids were ripping it out. It was too close to them."

He paused, letting the hair slip through his fingers.

"You mean the children at the school, don't you?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I mean **my** children," Lorna said.

His mind froze.

"Your grandchildren," she said, "Tom, Will, and Luna. Tom and Will are twins, about ten. Luna's hardly more than a baby. I…I brought pictures."

Tentatively she held out the thick folder, her hands trembling. Only then did he realize it was a plastic photo album. On the cover was what he assumed was a family picture. Lorna was seated, holding a baby girl in a frilly dress. Mousy brown hair had begun to grow on her head, complimenting her silver eyes.

In front of her stood two young boys. They were identical except for one feature; their hair. One of them had coal black hair and the other snowy white. Both looked like Alex, although he could see that some of Lorna's features had snuck in. Next to Lorna was the man in question, one hand resting on the back of the chair she sat on. He could see that Alex had gained a scar on his forehead and a slightly harsher face. However, he was smiling in the picture.

"Would you like to see them?" asked Lorna, her voice still hesitant.

He looked at her. There were so many things he wanted to say. He had grandchildren; three of them. They were grandchildren he had never met, probably would never meet if his situation continued. Then again, even if he got out the only place he might meet them was on the battlefield. It was more likely than he'd like to admit. This would be his only chance to see them without having to harm them.

"Yes," he said.

They'd sat down and she'd opened the book. To his surprise he found that there were pictures of her wedding there too, pictures stretching all the way back to when they had last parted. She had been saving them for him; he knew that without her saying anything. When she had left he'd found the family picture that had graced the cover left neatly on the table.

He'd stuffed it into his pocket quickly, not wanting anyone else to see it. When he had escaped he'd taken it with him. In the helicopter he closed his eyes briefly. One day he wouldn't have to learn about her life through photos. Seeing as he was the only one really fighting for it meant that he would have to continue fighting; no matter how old he became.

* * *

><p>"I thought you might come down here sooner or later," Alex said.<p>

Scott looked at him blearily from behind his goggles. He shrugged noncommittally and leaned up against the kitchen wall. It hurt Alex to see his proactive brother stricken by apathy. Then again, he would probably react in the same way if he lost Lorna. He'd come too close to that too many times.

"So you just waited here, huh?" Scott asked, his voice tired.

"For three hours anyway," said Alex.

He reached down and hoisted a carton of six bottles of beer to the table. Scott eyed it.

"We're too old for soda and mac an' cheese to solve everything," Alex said, "But the beer and pizza I have in the oven might help. It's been warming there for about an hour, so it's probably not the best, but still."

The hunted expression didn't leave his brother's face. Trying not to show how nervous he was Alex gestured to the seat opposite him. With a sigh Scott sunk into it. Alex smothered a smile of relief and took the pizza out. Then he slid a beer over to his brother as well as a slice of pizza, determined that he would make sure that his brother ate **something**.

He waited for a few minutes while his brother ate what must have been his first meal in hours, maybe even in a day. Alex summoned up his courage and asked;

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Scott paused mid-chew and bowed his head. Alex wondered if he'd tried to do too much too fast. He was banking on their close relationship, how Scott had opened up to him about everything before this. Now things were different; something like this had never happened before. Now he wasn't so sure.

"She…she left without saying anything," Scott said at last, "Her last words came through the Professor. She just said…'This is the way things have to be. Goodbye.' I begged and begged her but she wouldn't get back in the jet. And…before I knew it she was gone."

He took a long draught from the bottle before setting it down with unnecessary force.

"She wouldn't get back in," he repeated.

Alex reviewed his brother critically. Ever since he had driven Scott to the mansion over twenty years earlier the two of them had only each other. Thier parents had never tried to reestablish contact. He himself had only spoken to his parents once; a few months before his wedding. It had gone badly, as he'd known it would. He'd only done it because Lorna had insisted. His wife, though he loved her dearly, had certain ideals about parents that he didn't hold to.

Because of that close relationship he'd been the first one to know when Scott first went out with Jean at sixteen. They had both been his students then, training to be the new wave of X-Men. It had made him both proud and scared that his brother was following his footsteps. Alex had felt that it was his duty for him to at least prepare him as well as he could if he wouldn't back down.

He'd honestly expected Scott to have married Jean. They had been together for over ten years. Yet, it never happened and he'd wondered. The attachment wasn't weakening on Scott's side certainly. Although Jean had been his student, and Alex had gotten to know her quite well in her capacity as his brother's girlfriend, he still didn't understand if the hold up was on her part or not.

So he was going into this with blinders on, having only a limited amount of information. It certainly wasn't the time to ask for more.

"I know," he said quietly, "Ororo told me."

In the absence of any details he had been forced to go to another one of his former students. She had been running a DNA test in the labs downstairs; God only knew why. Perhaps her way of coping with grief was throwing herself into her work. If it was then he could understand. He'd done that enough himself.

"She wouldn't let me help her," said Scott, "And every step I take here reminds me of that; I failed. She's not going to be around the corner waiting for me, she's not going to be in the labs, and she's not going to be in our room. And it's because of me."

Uncomfortably Alex noticed that his brother was already on his second beer. Scott had never been a big drinker, and he'd have to make sure that he didn't over do it. He had to chose his words carefully.

"Do you remember when we were training in the Danger Room, way back when," Alex said slowly, "and Rahne got Ororo out of the way but succeeded in getting herself killed in the simulation? And then Ororo was still reeling from getting pulled away and got killed too?"

He blinked at him.

"You yelled at Rahne for ten minutes," Scott said blankly, "and we all had to listen."

"Right," said Alex, "and do you remember what I said?"

Scott paused and buried his head in his hands. Pushing his chair out Alex got up and stood behind his younger brother. He let his hand rest on his shoulder.

"If you're going to sacrifice yourself, do it strategically," he said, his voice faint, "If the cost is greater than the payback then you haven't been a hero; you've just gotten yourself killed."

"Exactly," Alex said, "She evidently thought the payback was worth more than the cost. She thought **you **were worth more."

"There were others..."

"Let me tell you something and know that I'm speaking from experience. When you think you're going to die, you don't think about the majority," Alex said, "You think about the people who mean the most to you. You zero in on that **one **person."

There was no answer. Alex looked around the kitchen and sighed.

"Come home with Lorna and me," he said, "Just for a little while. You need family around you. But…if you don't want to come to Muir Island, then I'll tell the Professor that I'll stay here. Lorna will understand."

"You can't stay," said Scott, "Luna…Luna's birthday is next week."

"You've never met her but you can still remember her birthday? Damn," Alex said.

His brother gave a weak, mirthless chuckle.

"Don't bother yourself. I'll find a way," Alex said, "Whatever you want Scott."

At long last his brother tilted his head up. With another sigh he said;

"I'll go with you."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Technically in the comics Lorna and Alex never had kids. However, the children mentioned are Magneto's grandchildren from The Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. Will and Tom are better known as Wiccan and Speed, members of the Young Avengers. Luna is Quicksilver's daughter, and a worse father never lived. Seriously, he's a jerk. Whenever he gets in an argument with Magneto about how bad a father he is I just want to shake Quicksilver and point out what he did to Luna. Still, it's relevent to the plot and to the characters for them to have children. Lorna lost her mother and in a sense her father too within the same year while Alex ran away from home. Since they were left with nothing I'd imagine that they'd have wanted a big family. _


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt rocked back and forth on his feet anxiously. His tail swished behind him in rhythm with his rocking.

"How did ze tests go?"

Charles hesitated. He felt tired and a myriad of emotions warred within him. At any other time or under any other situation he knew Kurt would ask him if something was wrong. However, he seemed blind to everything around him. Why wouldn't he be? He had been waiting his whole life to find out about his birth parents. His impatience wasn't going to yield until it had been satisfied.

"I'm going to ask you again Mr. Wagner, are you sure this is what you want?" asked Charles, "You can never unlearn this."

A smile crossed Kurt's face and Charles' heart fell.

"Of course," he said.

"Well Mr. Wagner, we do have a match," Charles said.

He'd known it. He'd known it the moment he'd seen him.

"This is vunderful," he said, "Can I meet her? My mutter?"

Again Charles hesitated.

"I'm afraid that that's…Kurt…this may be a little shocking to you," he said, "But from what I've been told I believe you already have."

He blinked.

"Vhat?"

Charles sighed deeply and pushed a folder towards him. Tentatively Kurt picked it up and opened it. He knew what he would see; a picture of a woman whose scaly skin was blue. Her hair was a vibrant red and her eyes would be an all too familiar gold. His eyes closed in understanding.

Kurt delicately placed the folder onto the table.

"Are you sure?" he asked, not opening his eyes.

"Positive," Charles said, "We have a sample of her DNA; don't ask how, but it was a match with yours."

Kurt pulled his legs onto the chair so he could sit on his heels.

"I understand vhy you varned me now," said Kurt, "And I zank you, though I vas too…too to understand your varning. Zey told me she vas some sort of terrorist. I suppose zat explains vhy I vas thrown in a vell."

Tears started to gather in the corner of his eyes. Almost immediately he reached for the rosary that he kept continuously at his belt. Charles knew what was about to happen.

"I zank you for your help, but I must go now," Kurt said.

"Mr. Wagner-" tried Charles.

It was too late. Kurt had already disappeared in a puff of smoke. With a deep sigh Charles leaned his head back. He had thought that Kurt would be upset but he had hoped he would remain for enough time for him to explain about their relation. It was likely that he wouldn't see his nephew for some time now.

Still, he had options. Pressing his fingers to his temple searched the mansion, looking hard. When he finally found the object of his search he thought;

_I'm sorry to disturb you, but someone needs your help._

* * *

><p>The intruder was stealthy. Emma was faintly impressed. Whoever was trying to assassinate her this time was sparing no expense. She smiled and shifted in her bed, pretending to be asleep. He was drawing his knife now. If she wanted to she could have made him stab himself in his throat. No need though.<p>

There was a brief flash of light. Emma opened her eye a crack to enjoy the show. The knife that had been plunged towards her was turned aside by a crystal dagger. The intruder looked up into a pair of bioluminescent black eyes. Rainbow wings fluttered and shimmered behind them.

"Hello," said Megan, "I'm the tooth fairy! No gift for me? We'll fix that!"

Using her unoccupied hand she crushed his teeth in with her fist. The intruder was sent to the floor howling as his teeth scattered across the floor.

"See?" Megan asked.

Megan neatly laid one foot on his chest and applied pressure. Two ribs cracked and he screamed again. She crouched down next to him and put her dagger to his throat.

"Wait," yawned Emma, getting up from bed and stretching, "Let me get that."

She flicked a finger and made his eyes roll back into his head. Megan withdrew her dagger and sheathed it before getting up.

"I need to interrogate him," Emma said, letting her silk dressing gown pool on the floor, "People are hard to interrogate when they're dead."

"You want me to put him in one of the holding cells?" asked Megan.

"No, you're too important. I'll call the staff to do that," Emma said, yawning again.

She put her fingers to her temples and minutes later two members of her household staff came. They gave a fearful look at Megan before dragging the man away. Another maid came, trembling, and swept up the teeth from the ground. Inwardly Emma smiled to herself. It had taken years of work to make Megan into someone who, despite her appearance, would engender a good deal of fear.

Her eyes flickered to her apprentice and ward. At the moment Megan appeared to be eighteen years of age. Her real age was somewhere near her thirties, but she had carefully controlled her aging. It was one of the first things that Emma had taught her to do and one of the most useful. It had given her more time to train her childlike limbs to perform combative stances.

You could hardly hear about the White Queen of the Hellfire Club without hearing about her 'Pixie' bodyguard. The name had stuck, although from some quarters she knew that Megan was being hailed as The White Princess. There was no such title in the Hellfire Club which made it a little fanciful. It made Emma pleased.

She'd told Megan on her first day of training that no one was going to be intimidated by someone who looked like a pixie. So she would need to build a reputation that would precede her. Megan had wanted to know, in her childlike ignorance, why she needed to intimidate people in the first place. Emma had made sure she knew that that was how she was going to survive. Megan had never brought it up again.

When Megan was fifteen biologically she had introduced her as her chief bodyguard. It had garnered a lot of laughs. Then the first assassination attempt had come. Much like that night she had let Megan handle it. The result had been just as impressive and the laughs had abruptly died in the throats of the other members. Emma had had to watch her own back less and less. It was refreshing.

The maid finally left and Megan turned to her.

"I could have taken him," she said.

"I know," said Emma, "But I need to find out who sent him. And if I don't torture him then the staff won't hear the screams and they won't go to their informers trembling. It's all about keeping up appearences."

It was a complete lie, but one that she told convincingly. Not only was the trembling job done by the teeth clean-up Emma already had the information from a brief scan of his mind. Still, she needed to separate Megan from this. The image of Megan holding her dagger, a birthday gift from Emma several years ago, to his throat had made her shudder.

Because, and she hated to admit this to herself, the idea of Megan killing someone terrified her. Despite the years of molding she'd taken from Emma she'd retained that same innocence she'd seen in the seven-year-old child's eyes, although there was a new fierceness. It was something precious in her, something that Emma wanted to preserve for some reason.

So she smiled at Megan.

"But I'll do that later, at a more reasonable hour," she said, "Good job."

Megan's face lit up.

"Now, it's two a.m. and I want ice cream," continued Emma, "Feel like going downstairs and getting some?"

She knew the answer before she asked.

"Oh, always," Megan replied.

* * *

><p>Kurt had found a Bible in the library several hours ago. He held his rosary tightly in one of his hands and rocked back on his heels. The beads were comforting, but he needed more. He had needed to find a Bible somewhere. It had helped him in other times of emotional distress; there was no reason why it wouldn't now. Comfort was a long time in coming though.<p>

It was silent in the library so he started in surprise when the doors opened suddenly. A woman stood there with green hair going nearly past her shoulders. He recognized her from the meeting with the Professor a few days ago. Kurt's first instinct was to teleport away but the woman seemed to know what he had in mind. Almost immediately she held up a hand and cautiously said;

"Please; don't go anywhere. I'm Lorna Summers, Scott's sister-in-law. The Professor's worried. We all are. He sent me to check up on you."

He swallowed.

"Danke for caring," he said, "But I vould like to be alone."

"Listen," Lorna said, stepping closer and looking him in the eye, "I know what you're going through. I really do."

Kurt couldn't help the sliver of skepticism that appeared on his face.

"I'm not lying. I know you feel really alone right now," she said, "You've spent your whole life not knowing where you came from. And it just kills you when you think about it. No one would give you any answers and all you wanted was to know. No one you talked to would understand; they all knew their parents. And I'm betting your foster parents were really nice but it's not the same, is it?"

He blinked at her.

"Ze Vagners vere…good people," he settled for, "I am grateful. As I am my life could haf been much worse if zey hadn't taken me in. But…"

With a sigh he shut his Bible but held onto his rosary.

"…zey did not love me," he admitted, "Zey cared about my vell-being. Vhenever I injured myself zey became upset. But it vas not love. Zere vas little connection between me and them."

"And you wanted to feel that connection with your birth parents, right?" she asked, "Because you wanted family. You wanted family really badly because you felt like you didn't have anything. And you had hopes and then you found out who your parent really was. And it wasn't what you wanted."

She stared at the floor and took a seat.

"And you thought you could forgive them for anything if they'd just talk to you, give you a chance," Lorna said, "You could forgive abandonment if they could just help you understand why. You could forgive it if they'd reach out to you like you were trying to reach for them."

"If God can forgive ze vorld's sins zen I zhought I could find a vay to forgive my mutter," he said, "Who did you haf to forgive?"

Lorna looked up and gave a sad smile.

"My father," she said, "He and my mother were together and then…they weren't. But he left her without anyway to contact him. Nine months later I was born. And when I was seventeen the Professor helped me find him."

"He is a gute man," Kurt said.

"Yes," agreed Lorna, "He knew what my father was though. But he thought…that my father should tell me. You see…he'd been friends with my father at one point and he'd just become a father himself. He thought he owed it to him to give him a chance. And he didn't know that my father would try to trick me into following him in a life of crime. He didn't know."

Her voice took on a glum quality.

"I understand that you met him around the time when you met your mother," she said.

Kurt's mind went to the man who had been with his mother. He'd been the man who had left them all at the dam. The group had been even more afraid of him then they'd been of Mystique. Rouge had even explained quietly to Kurt how he'd kidnapped and nearly killed her. An involuntary shudder rippled through his body.

"So you know," Lorna said, "I had a similar reaction, only a lot worse. There were consequences too. I control metal and when I heard that…I lost control of my powers and nearly destroyed the lobby."

His eyes widened.

"I didn't have good control then. But the thing was, I'd gotten to know my father. I'd come to love him and look forward to being a family with him," she said, "Sometimes I wish I did go with him. I think I could have changed him. But deep down I know he's too stubborn to be changed by the force of my will alone. I'm not ashamed to admit that he's stronger than I am. I knew that then, knew he would change **me **instead. Knowing that…I couldn't follow him. So I stayed at the school and he left."

"And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and zrow it avay," quoted Kurt, "For it ist better to enter ze Kingdom of God maimed zen ze gates of Hell whole."

She gave him a strange look like she was struggling over his words.

"Something like that," said Lorna, "But I want to tell you something Kurt."

She stood up and displayed her hand. A golden wedding ring gleamed there.

"I got on with my life," she said, "I graduated high school; got a degree in geophysics. I've got friends who I'd die for and who'd die for me. I have a great job, a loving husband, and three wonderful children. I found my own family. I survived."

Lorna tentatively reached forward and touched his shoulder.

"I'm living proof that when one door is shut, a window opens," said Lorna, "My father…he may be lost to me in so many ways. He may never really see his grandchildren and I know he sure as hell won't get along with my husband. But the fact that I have a husband and children in and of itself is special. I've lived a wonderful life because I didn't shut myself down. You have to see things for the bigger picture."

He looked up at her and she smiled.

"Now the Professor said he wanted to talk to you," said Lorna, "It sounds like you left too fast for him to say too much."

"I don't vant to hear any more about how-" he started.

"I know," Lorna said quickly, "But sometimes we have to bite the bullet. And you don't have to do it right now; he said you should take your time. He's a patient man."

Kurt blinked back tears and stared at the top of his desk. He took a deep breath and then exhaled.

"I vill talk to ze Professor in ze morning," he said, "Zere is so much zat I need to zink about. I…in ze morning."

"I'll tell him that," she said, letting go and starting towards the door, "And always remember Kurt; this is a good place. It's…"

Her eyes closed briefly and she rested at the door frame.

"It's a good place to find family," finished Lorna.

She exited the room and Kurt was left alone with his thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt entered the Professor's office the next day, his head hung low. His rosary was still clutched in one hand and he'd said a quick prayer for strength before entering. If there was anything more that Charles wanted to say about his parentage it couldn't be good. He got into his seat crouched; it was more comfortable for him that way. It was a small step towards bracing himself for the next inevitable blow.

"Mr. Wagner," said Charles, "Thank you for returning to my office. I understand that yesterday was…difficult for you."

It was an understatement. However, he knew that it was the closest that the Professor could come to describing how he felt.

"And I know how hard it was to come back into this office," he continued, "I hope that Mrs. Summers could offer some comfort."

"She vas very kind," said Kurt, "She did not haf to say vhat she did. I appreciate it."

The Professor nodded and looked at him hesitantly.

"Under normal circumstances I wouldn't try to push you so soon," said Charles, "But circumstances aren't exactly normal. If you would indulge me for a few minutes I would like to tell you a story."

Kurt's tail swished, brushing the top of the rug. All he wanted to do was leave and hide himself in his room. Yet, they had been so kind to him here. They had taken him in when anyone else would have turned him into the authorities. And Lorna had been right; sometimes he couldn't do what he wanted to. Reluctantly remained seated, hoping that whatever Charles wanted to say would be brief.

"It's a story that happened decades ago, happened in this very mansion before it was a school," Charles said, "It was a house then to a rather wealthy family. The family was a small one despite the size of the house, only one child. A son."

His voice gained steadiness as he went on.

"It started when the boy heard a commotion in the kitchen," said Charles, "He came downstairs to find his mother rummaging around in the refrigerator. Yet; he could tell that it wasn't his mother. He was a mutant you see. After displaying his own mutation the woman backed down, revealing a shape shifting little girl. She was alone and scared, cringing like she expected to find herself in trouble."

Kurt knew the girl was his mother, although he was having difficulty thinking of the menacing woman he'd seen as a scared child. Was this true? Had she ever been a lost child? He had trouble imagining it and didn't understand where the story was going. Was the Professor somehow trying to explain why his mother was the way she was? Was he trying to soften the blow somehow?

If that was his aim then he hoped he would give up soon. There wasn't much that could be said to make the situation any better.

"The boy was…beyond joy that he had found another mutant," continued Charles, "He didn't even know that they were mutants then, just that they were different. A mutant alone is...never mind. He saw someone like him that night, someone who would understand. She was homeless, alone. He had a family who ignored him. So he took her in and called her his sister from that day forward. And, because of his power, he was able to do so legally."

Charles closed his eyes and Kurt cocked his head. Was he trying to say that he had family somewhere, somewhere other than who knows where with terrorists? The Professor had never mentioned his father. He had supposed that he didn't know. Kurt didn't really want to imagine the type of person someone like Mystique would have a child with. Still, did he have an uncle somewhere? Possibly cousins? Hope flickered within him.

"And they grew up together, truly becoming brother and sister. But time wore on, and they grew up. They weren't children anymore and didn't have that same blind faith in a perfect world…in each other. He still retained that same naivety, but he didn't realize that it had chipped away from her. He didn't understand her as much as he thought he did," Charles said, "To some extent he took her for granted. She had stayed with him for so long that he had gotten used ot it. Yet they stayed together, and fell in with a section of the CIA that investigated mutants. They tried to form a new division, save the world."

He rested on hand on his temples.

"But their differences grew and a rift opened, one that the boy didn't notice. Not until it was too late," Charles said, "Soon their ideologies forced them to part. Her to go with Magneto. Him…well."

Sadness passed over his face and he sighed again.

"The girl's name was Raven Darkholme," said Charles, "Although I know she has taken the name Mystique in recent years."

In response Kurt nodded.

"Her brother's name was Charles Xavier."

Kurt's eyes widened. Understanding struck him like a bolt of lightning as he stared at the man in front of him.

"Zo you…you are-"

"Your uncle," he said, "Yes."

With a start Kurt fell off of balance and fully into his chair. He continued to stare at Charles.

"I had my suspicions, you do have her eyes and nose," said Charles, "But the tests confirm that you are my nephew."

So many thoughts jumbled together as they warred to be voiced. First he had been told that his mother was a murderous terrorist. Now he found out his uncle was a philanthropist seeking to help mutants and humans coexist. His stomach churned as he tried to take in all of the information he was being given.

"Of course, I might have mentioned that during our time with the CIA I met a woman named Moira MacTaggert," Charles said, "I married her some time after my sister left."

He pointed to the wall. They were far away from it and Kurt teleported himself to get a better view. Hanging on the wall was a picture of the faculty and student body of the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters in 1963. His eyes scanned the names on the bottom until he came to Moira MacTaggert. The picture was old and she was one of many, but he could see her smiling confidently at the camera.

"Together we had a son. His name is David."

There was another gesture to another wall of his office. Kurt teleported and saw a man covered with blue fur gazing serenely at the camera. He blinked.

"No, that's Hank McCoy. He was one of my first students," chuckled Charles, "The first known mutant elected to Congress. No; look behind him."

Peering closer Kurt saw that a young man was standing next to him, hidden slightly by Hank's large figure. He stood erect and straight, like he had an iron rod in his back. His arms were folded behind his back. For all of his youth he looked like a soldier at attention. However, he had his father's periwinkle eyes.

"I don't have any current photos, no family portraits," said Charles, "I have many enemies and security is paramount for my family. We've had…experiences."

Kurt let his tail swish back and forth more as his agitation increased. Something akin to apprehension and nervousness formed in Charles' eyes.

"David is in Washington, serving as an aide to Senator McCoy. That picture was taken when Hank was elected to Congress. He's a year older than you but graduated college quickly," said Charles, "His mother is on Muir Island in Scotland. That's where the people you met in my office the other day live. They were going back soon, along with Scott and another one of my students. David will be there in a few days as well. If you wish, you could come and meet the rest of your family."

Charles paused.

"Go to Scotland?" asked Kurt.

"If you wish," he repeated.

Everything was happening so fast. It confused him but one thought dominated; he had a family. He remembered what Lorna had said about doors and windows. Kurt had never fully appreciated those words until that moment. He had thought that she was just exaggerating. Sucking in a breath Kurt teleported back in front of Charles' desk quickly, knocking his chair down.

"Of course," Kurt nearly shouted, struggling to keep his voice calm and level, "Vhen do ve leave…?"

He stumbled over the unfamiliar term.

"…onkel?"

And for the first time since their interview started, Charles Xavier smiled. 

* * *

><p>Azazel flicked his tail irritably. He wished that there was someone nearby that he could take his anger out on. It had been at considerable expense and trouble that he'd been tracking his son over the past month. He'd called in favors and threatened a few more. Bribes had been dished out and bodies littered the trail. Even then he'd struggled to conclude that his son had been at Alkali Lake.<p>

The Wagners had been no help at all; foolish couple. He couldn't believe that he had entrusted them with Kurt in the first place. Oh, he'd had good reasons. They'd been the only couple he'd held sway over who were fairly secure. They could have no children of their own so he'd never have to worry about Kurt growing up with 'siblings'. Azazel had thought that they would do a passable job at raising a child.

To thier credit they had done fairly well up until that point; taking care of him, raising him Catholic, even giving him combat skills in the form of trapeze training. All was in accordance with his instructions. They had even taught him to embrace his mutation or at least accept it, something that he admitted was not the easiest task. When he met him he would make sure that any uncertainties he still had were smoothed over.

So yes, the Wagners had done well. Azazel gave himself plenty of credit as well though. He had known that he couldn't raise a child, but he'd made damn sure that he would be raised right. Kurt's appearance prevented him from receiving the best opportunities, but Azazel felt sure that he'd taken advantage of what had been given to him.

He'd made sure that he was going to be protected. For instance; he'd always made sure that the Wagners knew what would happen to them if his instructions weren't met. If he ever saw his son in discomfort when he checked on him as he slept then a punishment would be in order. Azazel had been particularly graphic when explaining what would happen to them if they ever laid a finger on Kurt.

It had been a warning that they'd heeded for nearly twenty years. They had done well and he'd believed that he'd made the right choice. In all of his visits he'd never seen a scratch on Kurt that hadn't been due to his awkwardness with his own powers.

Those visits had always hurt him. Azazel had stroked Kurt's hair while he slept, always tempted to come and take him away. He was always too young though. After that Azazel had been neck deep in Brotherhood business, always far away from Mystique and Magneto. After a few years he had resigned in disgust. He deserved time to check in on his son.

So his anger when he'd last checked in had been more than he could stomach. Now, when he was so close to revealing himself, they choked and ruined everything. Trembling the couple had explained that his son had disappeared. The police had been no help, but why would they? Why would anyone go out of their way to try and help find a mutant? He'd screamed this at them, cursed and kicked anything near enough to feel his wrath.

Still, for all their blubbering it appeared that they really didn't know what had happened to him. It hadn't been their fault and he knew that the more he waited the further away his son became. A punishment still needed to be dished out. He didn't have time to do more than warn them and break a few fingers and arms before leaving. They wouldn't be performing for quite some time.

The trail that he'd pieced together had led to Alkali Lake and a research facility. When he got there the entire area had been covered with water. The dam had broken apparently. He himself was on a precarious perch of crumbling rock. It was unstable, but as a teleporter he could chose his perch wherever he wanted.

Although the ruined area was frustrating he had a lead. A few people in a local village had explained that they saw a jet take off right before the water crashed through. It wasn't very specific but it was better than nothing. He had talents on making slim leads expand. A few more bodies meant nothing to him.

He had kept track of Kurt his whole life after all. Azazel was going to continue to do so. He had the time and he'd always had the resources. Even if he didn't everyone could just get out of his way. Kurt was his son and he was damned if he was going to lose him due to incompetence.

An itch started in his hypothalamus, just like when Emma wanted to play her games so many years ago. He narrowed his eyes and looked around. No one was there. With a sniff of disapproval he flicked his tail again and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. He wasn't there to notice the ripple that spread over the surface of the lake.


	6. Chapter 6

David stepped off the helicopter, keeping his head low. His mother was waiting a few yards from him. She waved as the blades of the helicopter slowly stopped spinning. He smiled briefly before pulling her into a hug. David was nearly a foot taller than her and she had to stand on her toes to reach him properly.

"I'm glad you could make it," she said, "But are you sure Hank can spare you?"

He gave a one shoulder shrug.

"He understands and it's not like I don't know my work will be coming home with me," said David, "Besides, he can take care of himself. Believe me when I say he's got it under control."

She smiled at him and began walking him over the wall of Muir Castle. In the courtyard below several children played. Some had tails, wings, claws, or scaly skin. A woman with pink skin in a green dress watched them calmly, leaning up against a wall. He smiled at the familiar sight from his childhood.

"You've got some new additions down there," he commented, "Hope Clarice down there is up to it."

"She's been a blessing," said Moira, "And you know that Doug is opening up that exchange student program this fall."

"Yes. Anyone we know coming back?" he asked.

"I think Amanda is," she replied.

"That's good," David said, "TJ will be pleased. How is she?"

"Good. Energetic but good," said Moira.

He smiled and stopped at the ramparts. Leaning against them he glanced back down at the children. His mother stood beside him and looked too.

"Your father should be here any minute now," she said.

The warmth in her tone shown through.

"I thought he might," said David.

"Scott's going to be with him," Moira said, "We're going to have to give him time to adjust to everything. It's been…hard for him to say the least."

"I know."

He hesitated.

"Father didn't tell me the whole story, just a little, but he said he's bringing my cousin."

Moira nodded.

"He's your aunt's son."

David shifted. He'd heard a great deal about his aunt; very little of it good. Apparently he'd met her once when he'd been a few months old, but he didn't think that counted. She wasn't the type of woman you'd want your child to be too acquainted with. Still, he was excited at the thought of having a cousin close to his own age. Technically Rahne was a cousin of his, but she was older than him to the point where he saw her as an aunt. What he would have given to have known about this Kurt when he was younger.

"He sounds like a nice boy," said Moira, "He's had a hard life, but no harder than many of our students here. It's still going to be difficult for him to take in all of his new adjustments. He just found out we existed."

"Same here," David said, "But I can't wait. Our family get-togethers will be making room for one more member."

The air above them started to thrum. David shielded his eyes and looked up at the arrival of the Blackbird. His mother smiled next to him and began walking briskly to the landing strip. He followed her eagerly, feeling like a kid at Christmas time. As the engines on the Blackbird stopped the ramp lowered.

Alex, Lorna, and Scott were the first out. Alex had an arm around his brother's shoulders who stared forward listlessly. He barely nodded at David as they went past. David shot a concerned look after him but knew it was best left alone. His family would be there for him, just like David would try to be for his.

Lorna paused for a minute by his mother.

"How are the kids?" she asked.

"Just fine, but they're getting impatient," Moira said, "You know how Doug is with kids…or how Doug **isn't **with kids."

Lorna made a resigned face and hurried to catch up. Sean, Maeve, and thier daughter came out next. Terry gave him a cheerful wave before running ahead. Maeve shook her head.

"Terry, don't wander off too far!" she called.

"Aw, let her run around a little," said Sean, winking at David.

"The last time she did that I found her making daisy chains with a schizophrenic mercenary," Maeve said, "When, I believe, you were supposed to be watching her."

"Not this again! How was I supposed to know that Wilson weirdo was on the island!" Sean protested.

David laughed and looked past the small family as they hurried after thier daughter. His father came out and David and his mother rushed to meet him. He leaned down and hugged him.

_I'm happy to see you again_, he thought.

_I told you I'll see you soon._

_And you always mean it, _David thought back.

He moved aside to make way for his mother. As she greeted him David looked into the Blackbird since no one had come out with his father. Not seeing anything he frowned. When he turned back he saw that his father, holding his mother's hand, was staring into the jet as well. He smiled and shook his head before calling out;

"You can come out now Kurt."

Shadows shifted. Where a patch of darkness had been before a blue mutant his age clothed in a long coat was revealed. His long tail swished behind him as he walked forward nervously. David smiled and wondered what he should do. A handshake seemed too formal for people who were supposed to be cousins. Still, it was a place to start.

"David Xavier," he said, thrusting out his hand.

Kurt stared at it. David suddenly felt awkward but he refused to let his face change.

"You vant to shake hands?" asked Kurt.

His cousin's hand twitched. Suddenly he knew what the problem was. He'd grown up around mutants with visible mutations. He knew that many of them had very little physical contact with other people. The first time his mother had hugged Clarice in congratulations she had squeaked in surprise. Letting a little more softness in his face he said;

"Of course."

Kurt smiled tentatively. Then, slowly he extended his hand. From the brief contact David felt rough skin and three fingers.

"Kurt Vagner," he replied.

"Great to meet you," he said.

He let go of his hand go as his mother walked up beside him. She held her hand out too. Kurt was quicker in taking it this time.

"Moira Xavier," she said, "And don't worry, I know who you are."

The smile became a little less tentative. His mother shifted on her feet, her hand brushing the back of his father's. David put his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"So, want me to show you around?" he asked, "This place is huge and real easy to get lost in. Where's your bag?"

There was an uncomfortable silence. They had found him on the run; of course he wouldn't have many posessions. He felt like hitting himself.

"O-kay," he said, "We'll get that sorted later. How about we just tour for now?"

Kurt nodded and David steered him down the battlements. He smiled.

"Sorry about how rushed that was," he said, "My parents wanted some alone time. My mother isn't a mutant, she doesn't have the mental connection I have with my father. And they don't see each other very often because of security."

"Zey didn't say anyzing," Kurt said, puzzled.

"Yes…but…well," said David.

He'd never had to explain this to anyone before. Growing up a telepath had taught him certain things about communication. Love and familiarity weren't displayed through words so much, especially in a family with telepaths. Rather he'd watched the small touches on the hands or the shoulders that his parents had shown. So at an early age he'd learned that, despite having spent most of their marriage apart, they were still very much in love.

In short David had learned that contact was important. It was one of the reasons he kept his hand on his cousin's shoulder. He wanted to make sure that Kurt knew no one was afraid of him. David wanted his only first cousin to feel accepted. It would be a long process, but he could tell that he was making steps.

"I can just tell. And it has nothing to do with this," said David, tapping the side of his head with his hand, "I'm not intrusive with it. My father taught me how to control it from a very early age."

"You are a telepath?" asked Kurt, "Like ze Profes-onkel?"

He smiled.

"Yes. Bit of a family gift. I'm not as powerful though," David said, "But yes, a telepath. I'm telekinetic too, but other than that. It's just useful when I don't feel like getting up."

Kurt's tail swished behind him.

"You could say ze same zing about my tail," he said, "Like anozzer arm. Of course an arm rarely gets jammed in a door by accident."

Anyone else would have assumed that Kurt was making a joke. However, David had watched several of his peers go through rather painful experiences.

"No need to worry about that anymore," said David, "This place has motion sensors that prevent that from happening."

He rounded a corner.

"And here's where we officially start. Start from the top and work our way down," said David, "Just figure you should get a bird's eye view first."

From the point they were at nearly the entire island was visible. Large stone walls loomed up as well as several modern additions. Helicopter pads lined the roof as well as two boat docks. Next to him Kurt breathed in.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" asked David, "Well Kurt, welcome to Muir Island."

A grin crossed his face.

"I think you're going to like it here." 

* * *

><p>The more he saw of Muir Island the more he realized his cousin was right. However, he felt strange there. He was ashamed of that feeling. Ever since the Professor had announced their kinship he had tried very hard to get to know him. His aunt had been very hospitable for the five minutes he'd seen her. David was also being especially positive.<p>

However, as he showed him around Kurt barely said more than two syllables. He felt tongue-tied and nervous. The thought of who his mother was and what she had done still preyed heavily on his mind. It still hurt and he knew it was preventing him from fully enjoying the presence of his new family. He fervently hoped it would fade in time.

For the time being though he was quiet. David was showing him some of the other residential halls and other main compounds. The island operated much like the main school from what he'd been told, although it was more hospital than school. Many of the children had gone home for the summer but many more had stayed behind. They were the ones that needed around the clock medical care from the many machines on the island.

Several of them had had special stasis chambers made for them. Others swam in a special cocktail of fluids that kept their skin from cracking. The sight amazed Kurt. Growing up he had felt that he was alone in his mutations. Now he had learned that there were many with worse mutations. Truly, in a way, he had been blessed. He said a quiet prayer that they would all be able to live normal lives one day.

However, there were also training rooms. Suits were being built to contain mutants and teach them to use their powers constructively. There was an impressive library with older volumes. David told him that they'd been given to them by the main school. A good deal of care had been given to the island since it had been founded as a refuge for mutants and sister school twenty years prior.

"And we still get a lot of overflow," said David, "There's been talk of opening a third facility, but I guess that's for another time."

The whole place was a labyrinth of corridors and halls. They hadn't even gotten to where he would be sleeping yet. If Kurt hadn't been able teleport then he knew he'd get lost easily. David's deftness in going through the hallways was impressive. Summoning up courage he remarked on it. His cousin smiled as they turned a corner.

"I grew up here," he said, "Back when most of this was just a castle. My father…he has enemies. When I was smaller my mother and I lived here for safety's sake. It's more secure here; isolated like it is. It's literally a castle."

"Ja, you can say zat again," Kurt said, his eyes flickering to the many passages.

"Many of the kids are overwhelmed the first time they come here too. There's a lot of ways to get lost," he said, "My family stayed close though, even if we only saw each other during the summer, Christmas, and Birthdays. That's where this came in handy."

One of his hands tapped the side of his head.

"For a while we alternated between the mansion and here, him visiting us or us visiting him. But then…"

His voice trailed off and he looked uncomfortable.

"We stopped after I turned eight. It had become too dangerous," David said, "He just visited us here after that."

Together they stepped out into a courtyard. The sun was bright but a cold wind was blowing. As both of them were used to such temperatures it didn't make much difference. From outside of the walls Kurt could faintly hear the crash of the ocean. David waved his arm proudly around the grassy courtyard.

"And this is the exercise area. It's empty now, but we have training sessions for the children who are more in control of their powers," he said, "And for the ones who aren't it's good to practice in an area where no one can get hurt. It just depends on how we schedule everything. "

He walked over to a side door and opened it up. David flipped on a light switch and the room was illuminated. Kurt took in rows and racks of equipment. There were large bins of basketballs, baseballs, hockey sticks, and some things he'd never even heard of. At the far end of the hall was a glass case which David walked over to.

"We keep all of the equipment here so it's not out in the open. Only certain hours," said David, "And these we keep locked at all times."

The back of his knuckles rapped on the glass. Kurt's eyes widened when he saw what was inside.

"Who fences here?" he asked.

David blinked.

"Oh, um, me mostly," said David, "Some of the older kids did for a while but honestly they just wanted to handle swords. That kind of misses the point and it gets dangerous. It's a competitive art, not exactly for self-defense really, although it could be used as such. That's why I didn't want the kids with the swords but…"

His voice trailed off as Kurt walked forward. He placed one hand on the glass longingly. A strange smile came onto David's face.

"Do you fence?" he asked.

Kurt blinked up at him.

"I vas taught it for an act. I did not vant to at first, but ze Vagners insisted. After some time I came to enjoy it," said Kurt, "But ze circus cancelled it vhen vone member quit. I vas upset. Granted zere vasn't much time to feel upset about it, I vas not vith the circus for much longer. But still."

"I haven't done this since I was nineteen," David said, "Not with a partner anyway. I mean, Uncle Alex always told me that real fighting was done with fists and I only learned how to do this because I went to that private college…"

Both of them looked at each other. They knew that only one thought was going through the other's mind. Almost frantically David tapped the lock and it came off. He jerked the cabinet door opened and two swords floated out. Kurt snatched one and David took another. Gingerly feeling the blade Kurt gazed at the stylized hilt.

"Epee style?" asked David hopefully, "I have sabres but no foils."

"Epee is best. It may zound shallow but ze ozzers look boring," Kurt said, "Zese are like zhoze of ze knights."

"They certainly do look better. That's why I wanted them since I was fifteen," David confessed.

Kurt nodded and turned his attention back to the swords. He'd seen stylized swords in the circus. Generally he found that they looked a little cheap up close, even though they looked good from a distance. His cousin's were something different. They were a work of art, inlaid with what looked like silver.

"Vhere did you get these?" he asked.

"Oh, a store in New Hampshire," said David, "I saved up for a while. Got them last year. I haven't really used them though; not in combat. This is their maiden voyage so to speak."

He smiled.

"Do you want protective gear?" asked David.

"You can do zis vith protective gear?" Kurt asked.

David opened his mouth before shutting it again.

"Alright," he said, "Gloves?"

Kurt shook his head and held up his three fingered hand.

"Sorry," winced David.

"Do not vorry," Kurt said, "Besides, at ze circus zey tried to make gloves for me, but I found ze skin of my hands gives me ze best grip."

"Do you mind if I…?" asked David, gesturing towards a brown pair of gloves.

"No, not at all."

With a grin he pulled his gloves on. Then, with jerk of his head, the doors to the equipment room flew open. They walked out into the courtyard, each swishing the blades.

"So, do you want someone to have the right to the first mark, or are we just going to go at it?" asked David, "After the salute of course."

"Ze second."

"This is definitely a dream," David said.

"I do not zink so. In my dreamz zere is more cotton candy," Kurt said, "And zebras. Many more zebras."

David laughed before saluting him smartly. Kurt did the same as he got into position. Then his cousin struck his pose. He could practically feel his excitement building.

"No referee, so…en garde?" David said.

With a flourish Kurt's sword flashed forward, his feet moving quickly. David blocked and started to advance. Each lunge was followed by a deft dodge. Kurt realized that his footwork was a little rusty, but David wasn't in the best shape either. Neither of them had had a good challenge in some time.

They went back and forth for a while, the ground churning beneath their feet. He was pleased to learn that his cousin was rather skilled. Someone had obviously taught him well. However, his teacher hadn't been as good as Kurt's. When the two of them finally stopped Kurt had scored five points to his cousin's one.

"That was…I haven't done this in so long," said David, cracking his neck, "That's what I'd like to say anyway. But no excuses; you're really good. You could probably teach me a few things. Several really."

He paused.

"Would you?" he asked, "Teach me I mean."

Something inside him shifted and Kurt grinned. Somehow ever since he had seen the fencing swords much of the awkwardness that had plagued him had disappeared. There had been so many emotions churning within himself since he had heard the crushing news about his mother.

Now he had something in common with his cousin. It was both a relief and a joy. His cousin was right; he was going to like it there. So there was only one thing he could say;

"Ja." 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Some of you may recognize several characters mentioned from the X-Men spinoff 'The Exiles'. Let me just say that I'm a huge fan of that series, even if the characters don't fit into this quite like they did in the comics. Also, the part about Kurt and the swords? I always thought that it was very interesting that he liked swords and fencing so much. Since David graduated college early I figured he might have had some experience. Besides, it's great for bonding. _


	7. Chapter 7

"You changed my room mom," Terry said.

"You mean I cleaned it," said Maeve, "Try not to dirty this place up by the time you go back to school, okay?"

Her daughter grinned at her, making the groups of freckles shift on her face. She'd inherited them from her father, along with her mutation. Unfortunately she had also inherited Sean's teeth. A retainer glistened against beneath her lip, trying to get the errant teeth in line. Her wisdom teeth were also scheduled to come out soon.

"No guarantees," said Terry, slinging her pack down on the rug, "I'm gonna be a high schooler soon. High schoolers are supposed to be messy."

"That excuse isn't going to fly," said Sean, coming up from behind Maeve, "Now get yourself unpacked."

"If I do can we go out to dinner?" asked Terry hopefully, "They don't make haggis back at the school."

"For good reason," Sean grimaced.

Maeve laughed.

"Sure," she said, "How does dinner at the Fox and Crown sound?"

"Awesome!" said Terry, "I'll get this done so fast it won't know what hit it!"

"Good," Maeve said, "See you downstairs in fifteen minutes."

Terry gave a cheerful thumbs-up. Maeve left the room, closing the door behind her. Sean sighed.

"So another night of eating Scottish food," he said, "And Interpol could have stationed me somewhere with good food; like Italy."

"Her screams are already supersonic. I don't think that I need her being a pizza fiend as well," Maeve said dryly.

Her husband laughed and hooked his arms around her waist.

"And is that such a bad thing?" he murmured, nuzzling into her neck.

She sighed and kissed him on the nose.

"No. If I minded your genes so much then I wouldn't have married you," she said, "Besides, I never thought I'd leave the states."

If anyone had asked her what she would do with her life at fifteen she would have shrugged. Her parents had married young and never had more than two cents to rub together. When the time came for college they'd barely scraped enough money together for her to go. She'd held down a job for her entire high school career to help save the money.

When Sean had pleaded with her to marry him at twenty-two she'd been conflicted. She had only just gotten her degree and they were both so young. However, she'd loved him too much to say no. Then things had taken off and she had a few clients for her consulting business. Not to mention she was a mother with a wonderful husband. She'd also been given her wish of being able to travel.

"Now we're living in Scotland. Go figure," she shrugged.

He smiled at her and she saw a reflection of the awkward boy she'd once known. He'd grown more confident with age but that shyness was still there. It was just buried.

"Life can be kind of weird sometimes," he said.

Sean rested his chin on the top of her head and grinned.

"Yeah; like convict-boy having more kids than me. I wonder how Alex and Lorna are settling in right now," he said. 

* * *

><p>"Alright, next one of you that does that is dead!" snapped Doug.<p>

Tom stuck his tongue out at Doug from the couch. Next to him Will started laughing. Luna mimicked her brother, clapping her hands together.

"This is the last time I babysit for the Summers," Doug moaned, picking a sticker off his forehead, "The absolute last time."

He threw the sticker to the floor. Before it hit he felt pressure on his forehead and found another sticker there. Tom looked at him innocently and Will laughed again.

"Okay, so that's how it's going to be?" he said.

Doug put his hands on his hips and breathed out. An undistinguishable murmur left his lips. The children stilled except Luna, who was still clapping in her childish innocence.

"What did you just do?" asked Will.

"I just told your computer not to turn on anymore," said Doug, "And your TV too."

Both brothers looked at each other with wide eyes.

"We didn't mean it," said Tom.

"What do you mean **we **didn't mean it?" Will said, "You were the one doing it, not me. You got us into this."

Luna giggled again.

"You're in twouble," she lisped.

"Hey, it was your idea!" Tom said, "And you conjured up the stickers in the first place!"

Doug smacked his face with his hand as the two boys started fighting. He put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. They paused, each one with a fist of the other's hair.

"I'll tell the computer and TV to turn on again if you two behave until your parents come home," said Doug, "And that means no more fights and no more let's-pick-on-Doug. Do you think that you can do that?"

Both boys looked at each other. Slowly they let go of the other and sat calmly with their hands on in their laps. Doug sighed again. Babysitting Will and Tom had been difficult even before they had manifested their powers. It might have still not been so bad if their mutations hadn't seemed like they were tailored to annoy him.

Tom had speed. He had been clocked at going faster than the eye could see, which really irritated him. His twin Will had some sort of ability to alter reality. Together they made a duo which drove him out of his mind. He'd need the abilities of their parents to keep up with them, abilities he didn't have.

Seeing them suddenly contrite Luna giggled again. She was barely two now. He shuddered when he thought of the day that the silver-eyed girl would manifest her powers. Somehow he had a feeling it would be telepathy. Then they would all be able to gang up on him. When that day came he knew he wouldn't stand a chance.

The doorbell rang. Tom raced over to the door and jumped up to look at the security camera outside of their house.

"It's mom and dad!" he yelled, "And Uncle Scott!"

"That was easy," Will said, sliding off the couch.

He stopped and helped Luna up. She waddled towards the door, half dragged there by her brother. Doug followed behind them and undid the latch that the children couldn't quite reach.

Both boys tackled their parents. They laughed but managed to stay standing. Luna fought her way between her brothers, beating them with her chubby fists.

"Mawma, Daddy!" she called.

Lorna smiled and scooped her up. Alex tousled her hair and looked over at Doug.

"I hope they weren't too much of a handful."

"Yeah, right," Doug said, "They were little **angels**."

Tom stuck his tongue out before turning back to the group trying to squeeze their way through the door.

"Hey, Uncle Scott!" said Tom.

As though dazed Scott looked down at his nephew. Doug shifted uncomfortably. Scott had been his team leader before Doug had left to pursue his Ph.D. He was the only one of Xavier's students who ever earned the title of Professor for themselves. Still, he had always made sure to keep in contact with the other members of his X-men team.

Now Scott, the star child, the one who always had it together, the boy scout, was faltering. Doug wasn't used to seeing that. Anyone who was old enough could see that he was struggling to keep it together. Their old leader needed all the support he could get. It was something to discuss with Rahne again if he could get in contact with her.

Feeling strange he gave a welcoming smile to Scott.

"Hey uh, Rahne was coming back to the Island in a few weeks," Doug said, hearing the words he'd rehearsed sounding stiff and unnatural, "We were thinking about going out or something, little reunion you know. Wanna come?"

Scott hesitated and then swallowed. He nodded absently in return. Not to be ignored for long Tom started jumping up and down.

"Hey Uncle Scott! Wanna guess how fast I can go now? Huh?"

"That's nothing. I could send him to the moon if I wanted," Will said.

"Could not!"

"Could too!"

"Could not!"

"Could too could too!"

"Both of you, calm down," Alex said authoritatively.

Will and Tom made a face at each other before turning eagerly towards Scott.

"Wanna see sometime?" asked Tom.

There was a long pause as Scott stared at them like he'd never seen them before. Will and Tom were beginning to realize that something was wrong.

"Hey, you're Uncle's tired from the ten hour flight. The Blackbird is fast but it isn't exactly a luxury flight," Alex cut-in, "We'll do that some other time. He's going to go upstairs and rest for a while. No tiring him out on the first day."

His children frowned. Luna squirmed in her mother's arms and looked over at Scott.

"Uncwe Scott?" she asked.

For the first time since entering the house Scott seemed to summon up a shred of himself. He'd never met Luna before. Her mousy brown hair was starting to grow in and her silver eyes were all but glowing. So much of her was still a chubby baby who was struggling to master speech. She was a darling child who was seeing her Uncle for the first time.

"That's right," Scott said, mussing her hair, "And you're Luna right?"

Luna giggled as he tousled her hair.

"That's me," she replied, "Wuna. I wike your gwasses."

Her hand tapped the sunglasses that he wore. Scott gave a laugh that sounded only slightly forced.

"I like them myself," he said, "I'm going to go upstairs and rest for a bit. I'll talk to you more later, okay?"

She nodded. He turned to his nephews and gave them a small smile.

"See you two soon too. Don't run off or zap yourself to the moon, okay?"

"I told you, he can't zap anyone to the moon," insisted Tom.

"I'll only know once I try," Will said, "Hey, how'd you like to be the first boy in space?"

"You'd have to catch me first," said Tom, sticking his tongue out and running into the kitchen, "Can't catch me!"

"I can try!"

Will ran after him clumsily. Scott gave a small smile and then, shouldering his pack, walked upstairs. Luna watched him leave.

"Why's Uncwe Scott bwue?" she asked.

"What honey?" Lorna asked.

"He's bwue, sad," said Luna.

Lorna and Alex gave each other a meaningful glance.

"A lot's been happening," said Lorna, "And he's very tired."

Luna frowned and her mother shifted her.

"Now it's three o'clock and time for your nap," said Lorna.

"But I'm not sweepy!" Luna countered.

Despite her protests Lorna carried her down the hall. From the kitchen the sound of the chase continued. Doug jerked his head towards them.

"Should we do something?"

"Nah, they'll get bored soon. Especially Tom," sighed Alex, cracking his neck.

Doug had to marvel at the casual way Alex handled his children. There were more pressing concerns though.

"So how's Scott doing?" he asked.

"God awful," replied Alex, "But we'll have to give him time. It only happened a week ago though. I just…God he's got it rough right now."

"When Mrs. X told us about Jean's death we were all hit pretty hard," said Doug, "But Scott…yeah. I'm going to defer to you on this. We all will I think. You know him best."

Looking tired Alex sighed.

"I think coming here will be good for him. A lot of his friends are here and everything. So Rahne is coming?"

"Well SHIELD takes her for a bit of a ride," said Doug, "We really were planning to get together, we were going to invite Ororo and Scott and Jean…."

"I know," Alex said quietly, "Thanks for taking care of the kids on such short notice."

"Anything I can do to help."

There was a loud crash from the kitchen. The two men jerked their heads as the clatter of pots and pans filled the air. Tom emerged into the living room with a pot stuck on his head, trying to push it off. Will followed close on his heels, banging the pot with a wooden spoon at every opportunity.

"Although next time I'd like to ask for some back-up," he said dryly, "Or how about you get David to do this? You know he's better at being in three places at once than I am."

"Yeah," Alex said.

He heaved a sigh before starting forward to pull his sons apart.


	8. Chapter 8

"I see that Kurt's settling in well," Moira said.

Charles turned his head towards her and smiled. He'd come to the small lounge with the intent of reading but his book lay forgotten on the floor. His wife sat on the edge of the couch, her hand on his forehead. Every time he returned to Muir Island he always wondered how he'd been able to stand being away for so long.

"Apparently allowing David to sign up for those fencing lessons was a good idea," he said, closing his eyes briefly, "Although I know Alex disagrees."

"What does he agree with?" Moira laughed.

"Not much," admitted Charles, "He certainly did have a very 'hands-on' approach when he trained the children at the mansion."

"I heard about that from Rahne," said Moira drily, "I'm surprised any of them stayed on after that."

"If he was doing a poor job then I would have stopped him," Charles said.

"No, he was doing a good job. I'd have to mention that it was a little overboard in some cases," Moira said, "Like the time he got them up at one in the morning and threw them into the Danger Room in their pajamas."

He winced. He remembered that day well.

"In my defense I didn't know about that until afterwards," said Charles.

"Mmhm," Moira said, "In any case I'm glad about Kurt."

"Yes," agreed Charles, "He's decided to stay here actually."

Moira smiled.

"Good. We could always use another person to help out with the kids," she said, "What about his adopted parents?"

"I've sent a letter to the Wagners explaining that Kurt has decided to stay with us," explained Charles, "He's put a letter in himself to explain where he is. I think that covers everything."

"I'm glad. I think he likes it here. I know David likes him here," said Moira, "And he's…Kurt's…I don't know, there's something about him. He has some sort of quality that draws people to him."

He opened an eye and saw her grin.

"Runs in the family," she said.

"I quite agree. I always did think that David got that from you sweetheart," Charles chuckled, closing his eye again.

"**Me**. Of course," said Moira sarcastically.

Her fingers brushed his temples.

"And how's Scott doing?" she asked.

He sighed and took her hand.

"I rarely see him outside the Summers residence. Even when I do Alex is by his side," Charles said, "Doug is trying to arrange a get together with the old team, but Ororo is acting headmaster while I'm away and you know Rahne's schedule these days."

"She contacted me this afternoon. She's trying to come, she really is. You know how close they all were when they were in school," said Moira, "They all stayed in contact even after they graduated. She took the news about Jean's death with…I guess restraint is the right word. But it's not the same for Scott."

"No. It still hasn't been long at all since Jean's passing," he said, "His brother is doing what he can; besides trying to get Rahne to come I know that Alex is trying to distract him with his children. Luna especially; he hasn't seen her before his visit. But a month is no time at all to grieve."

Moira nodded in agreement.

"Will he be going back to the school with you when you leave at the end of the summer?" she asked.

"I think so, although I hope that he stays with his brother for a few months," said Charles, "Alex will watch over him, just like he always has. I've offered him all the time he needs. I don't want his sense of duty to interfere with his healing process. I don't think that he's likely to take me up on the offer though."

"Burying himself with work isn't going to help," Moira said.

"No; it won't."

Next to him he heard Moira slide off the couch. When he opened his eyes he saw that she was kneeling on the floor next to him, allowing her head to be level with his.

"Charles…when would that be?" she asked, "I mean…when exactly are you planning on leaving?"

Charles hesitated. He could hear the undercurrent of sadness in her voice. They had been married for over twenty years and yet most of that time had been spent apart. Although they had originally parted because of safety their work now kept them apart just as much. He still wished it didn't have to be that way.

In a sense his wife had given her life to thier family as well to an ideal she hadn't even thought of before she met him. She had been forced to raise thier son in a way that, if he hadn't been telepathic, she would have been doing it alone. Moira had gotten her degree in teaching and genetics once she'd left, struggling to continue to be a useful member of the school. He'd told her she'd already done more than enough, but she'd continued to push herself.

When David was eight he had considered discontinuing their roundabout way of living all together. He had thought that it was safe enough and he had missed them horribly. Nothing had happened for nearly eight years after all. Then the Friends of Humanity had come and destroyed his plans. After that he had discontinued not their living apart but rather them visiting the school. Their enemies' reach didn't extend to Scotland yet.

His hand reached out and touched her cheek. Over the years their faces had changed. Wrinkles had gathered in the corner of their eyes, frown and stress lines had made their appearance. He had completely lost his hair while his wife's was streaked with gray. It didn't make her any less beautiful though.

"Two weeks," he said quietly, "But...I…"

"It's okay," answered Moira, her voice gentle, "It's okay."

She smiled at him quiet acceptance.

"I'll take what I can get."

A lump formed in his throat. She had taken what she could get since the moment their courtship had started. He wished he could have given her more.

"I love you Moira," he said, pulling her head close for a kiss.

"I love you too Charles," she replied, "Always."

* * *

><p>David was improving, but he was no match for Kurt.<p>

"Point!" he cried, striking him on the arm, "Match. Take ten."

"Damn," David said, cracking his neck, "That's three for three. I'll win one of these days, just you wait."

Kurt grinned and put his sword down. He had just finished when he was knocked to the ground. Being raised in a circus had taught him to be light on his feet though. He pulled his arms around whatever knocked him down and rolled. When he landed on his back his load shifted. Then he heard it squeal in delight.

Blinking he looked at the child who had run into him. She stared back up at him with eager eyes. Her skin had a metallic sheen, somewhere between blue and purple. Her eyes were a luminous white and her long black hair went down to her bare feet. Her sun dress poofed out and stopped a few inches below her knees. A tail swished in the air as her hands gripped the front of his coat excitedly.

"That was really fun!" she exclaimed, "Can you do it again? Only maybe this time make it last for longer? Please?"

Two arms lifted her up.

"You can't go knocking people down TJ," chided David.

"I didn't knock him down on **purpose**. I was running and I slipped. Besides, I had fun," TJ said, "Who's he?"

David gave him an apologetic look before setting TJ down and helping him up. Kurt looked down at the tiny girl, whose eyes were wide and curious.

"This is my cousin, Kurt," said David.

"How do you do?" asked TJ, giving a small curtsey.

Although he felt a little strange Kurt gave a stage bow back.

"Fine, danke little vone," he said.

She smiled, showing fangs. His tail moved and her eyes lit up. Her own swished faster.

"You have a tail! I like people with tails. They're nice. You're nice. Do you ever use it to open pickle jars?" she asked, "I do it all the time. And to carry things like my backpack. It's handy. Do you?"

"Ja," he admitted.

TJ's eyebrow furrowed. Keeping her eyes on Kurt she whispered to David;

"That's the second funny word he's said. The other one was dunke, I does that mean?"

"The first one is thank you and the other means yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's just in German," David said.

"I like the way that sounds. I like you too Kurt," she said.

"Danke."

She smiled again and squealed.

"I knew it. You're the King, aren't you?"

"Vhat?" he asked.

"The King," she said.

Her voice became confidential.

"I'm the Princess."

"Really," Kurt said, not knowing what else to say.

"Princess Talia Josephine," she proclaimed, "Oh, and the Queen's going to come back soon! I heard it. And now you're the King! It'll be great. I'll see you soon. I'm supposed to be meeting Ms. Ferguson."

Laughing TJ ran across the courtyard and leapt into a doorway. Kurt looked after her.

"Vhat just happened?" he asked, confused "Who vas zat?"

David gave a sad smile.

"TJ. She's five. She's not exactly…um…well…"

"Exactly vhat?" asked Kurt.

His cousin shifted uncomfortably.

"We found TJ wandering in the woods in England. She was three," he said, "There were bruises and cuts all over her. No leads as to her parents. No name even. Talia Josephine? She gave herself that name after a few weeks. From a story. She wouldn't speak for days when we first found her. My mother had the idea to read her fairytales, and that got a reaction. Sometimes she's completely normal, but uh, sometimes…"

He swallowed.

"Sometimes she lapses into this fairytale world. She likes the stories," said David, "Won't talk about her life before. I don't know if she even remembers. But out of nowhere sometimes she's a Princess and…we've all been assigned roles. I think I'm her Champion Knight in the court because she knows I have swords. Or her Prime Minister. I'm never sure."

Kurt blinked after the retreating form of the small girl and felt his hand go to his rosary. The thought of how his mother had thrown him in a well came to his mind.

"But she really liked you," David said, "Otherwise she wouldn't have made you King. The royal positions are…special to her."

"Oh…" he said, a little flattered, "Who ist the Qveen she mentioned zen?"

"An intern she got along with really well," David said, picking up the sword that Kurt had put down, "I hope you weren't put off by her manner. I know that she can be a little…you know…sometimes…but she has trouble around people-"

"Oh nein, not at all," Kurt assured him, "Das kind is a nice kind. I can tell."

David smiled in relief.

"Again, I'm glad. There are too many children with no pasts here who…"

His voice trailed off and he shook his head.

"You know, I've lived a good life. I've had a loving family; never been hurt and never been abandoned," he said, "I've been taught to see the good in people. To put it succinctly I've been blessed. But I'm aware of that and sometimes, when I see someone like TJ…"

He shrugged and adjusted his gloves.

"Sometimes…sometimes I understand our enemies all too well," said David.

Kurt blinked at the sudden bitterness in his cousin's voice. David winced and put his fingers to his temple. His forehead crunched inwards.

"Ist somezing vrong?" he asked.

"Just...just a headache," breathed David, "One moment."

He murmured under his breath for a second before opening his eyes. Then he shook his head once and smiled at Kurt. He tossed him his sword back which Kurt caught with his tail.

"I don't understand well enough for them unfortunately," David said, "Otherwise the Brotherhood might have had a stellar telepath. Their loss for being intolerant supremacists. Another round?"

Flicking his tail so his sword flew into his hand Kurt got back into position. No one had ever confided in him to the length his cousin had done. His casual manner made it seem stranger somehow; as though it were a matter of course that he would confide in his cousin. Kurt swallowed and got into position.

"En garde lieber Vetter," he said.


	9. Chapter 9

"Where's Uncwe Scott?" Luna asked.

Alex looked up from the book he'd picked from the shelf. Over the past few days Scott had been reading Luna her bedtime story. His absence that night had been noted.

"He's out with friends. Besides, it's my turn tonight," said Alex, "I haven't read to you in a while."

"I know," yawned Luna, "But Uncwe Scott does good voices."

"Yeah, that's something **I **know," Alex commented, "Now, do you want to hear this story or not? You make me feel rather unloved sometimes."

Luna frowned.

"I wove you," she said.

"I know honey-bee," said Alex.

"Can I see TJ tomowwow?" she yawned, switching gears quickly in her child world, "I'm her baby pwincess. I get to dwess up and then we pway couwt."

"Yeah."

His thoughts went to the strange five year old whom his daughter was friends with. At least they were only playing make-believe fairytales.

"Is this stowy about pwincesses?" Luna asked.

"Yes. Now do you want to talk about it or hear it?" asked Alex, feeling exasperated.

"I wanna hear the stowy."

"Good."

He leaned against the back of her chair. Alex began reading as his daughter slipped into slumber. She always fell asleep before the story was over. He put the book away and ruffled her hair. Two years old and she had all the men in her family, including her brothers, wrapped around her finger. Walking into the living room his eyes lighted on Lorna reading a magazine. The stray thought that he knew where she'd gotten it from appeared.

"Summer's almost over," he said, leaning on the back of her chair so he was level with his wife, "Kids going back to school, all that jazz."

"One year until we agreed to send Will and Tom to New York," said Lorna, "Feels strange, like it was just yesterday I was packing their lunch for their first day of school. So long ago."

"Mmhm, and now they're trying to sneak soda and pizza in," Alex sighed, "Soon enough it will be beer. Oh the memories."

"I remember that time Will dared Tom to drink soda and eat pop rocks because he'd heard a rumor that they'd make a person explode," Lorna said drily, "The worst part was that after he said that Tom actually did it."

"That kid explodes enough as it is. Doesn't need pop rocks."

He cracked his neck.

"So, our anniversary's coming up in a few weeks," Alex said, leaning down on the back of her chair so he was level with her, "Any ideas?"

"Oh no, your turn to figure things out this year," she said, "I take the odds, you take the evens."

"You're too kind. But it's not too late to change. It's a lot of pressure for you to handle our 25th," he said.

"Maybe even as much pressure as the 50th."

"I'll be too old to know my left from my right by then," complained Alex.

She rolled her eyes and put down her magazine. One of her hands cupped his chin and drew his face closer.

"If you're so worried then make plans now, because we're sticking it out for the long run. You're not getting off the hook that easy."

He sighed and she pulled him in for a soft kiss. One of his hands touched her hair; still silky but much shorter than when he had first played with it outside the Institute. That had been years ago, before she had walked down the aisle to him, before she had borne his children.

His lips had barely touched hers when he heard;

"Oh yuck."

Alex looked up and saw Tom making a face at him. He left Lorna's side and walked over to his son.

"Not in the living room," Tom said.

"Hey, our living room," Alex said, "And isn't it your bedtime?"

"Not for another hour."

"That's what you think. You just got downgraded," said Alex, "Now go on upstairs and get in bed. I'll be checking in five minutes."

"Mom!" whined Tom.

"As much as I hate to admit it he's got a point. The living room is a public place Alex," said Lorna, "So let's commute the sentence."

"Hmph," Alex said, "Fine. Just get upstairs speedster."

Tom made a face and Alex ruffled his hair. He smiled at him and then, in a flash, he was gone. Alex sighed.

"They grow up so fast."

"Was that a pun?" asked Lorna, "Because it was a terrible one."

"Hell, with a family full of mutants puns are inevitable at one point or another," Alex shrugged, "Just watch; Luna's going to grow up and be able to control ice or something. The puns'll be terrible then."

"And they'll all be from you."

"Probably."

* * *

><p>Scott looked blearily up from his drink. Doug sat across the table from him, his cutlery long forgotten as he gesticulated wildly. He had ordered some sort of sandwich with fries, one of which he was waving and gesturing with to Rahne who sat next to him. She wasn't moving much and only gave a soft disbelieving snort every now and then.<p>

Since their teenage years both of them had undergone great changes. She had cropped her hair close to her head and her eyes had achieved some sort of wariness. Doug had shot up and managed to muscle out, no longer the skinny but fast member of the team. He watched the two of them talk, not truly listening to anything that they were saying. Rahne laughed suddenly and rolled her eyes at something that Doug had said.

Absently he looked down at the pint he'd gotten from the pub. All of them were drinking so he felt it would pass unnoticed. After the first week he'd felt the conspicuous lack of alcohol in his brother's house and he knew the reason behind it. He'd ordered food that night but had left it largely untouched. He got the feeling that, despite the forced joviality of his friends, they had noticed it. Every now and then a comment would be dropped, forcing him to take a few bites. It tasted like sawdust.

It was odd to know that they were trying to take care of him. Certainly they were older than him, but it felt wrong somehow. It had always been the reverse in school. Although Rahne and Doug had both been older he'd been the one selected as team leader at seventeen. After that Alex had only stayed on as an adjunct, disappearing entirely from his position after Scott turned eighteen.

So after he had led them into battle again and again he felt it was odd that he was the one who needed to be held up. He shook his head and tried to pay attention to what they were saying.

"There isn't a difference," Rahne said, "A fry is a fry no matter what you call it."

"No, a fry is a skinny little thing, rather sad," Doug insisted, "It's also insanely salty and often times rather floppy. A chip is crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside. It's chunky too. You don't find floppy chips."

He popped it into his mouth and chewed. Rahne rolled her eyes.

"He's still a know-it-all," she said to Scott.

A ghost of a grin flickered across his face.

"Could never get you to stay still either," Scott said, "Remember what Alex used to call him?"

"Oh, are we going into this again?" moaned Doug.

"Yes," Rahne said, "Hyper. Because it rhymed with Cypher."

"Not funny at all," said Doug.

"Yeah, it was a bad pun, but my brother always was awful about that," Scott said, "God knows he should have stopped."

"And he had a shout on him," said Rahne, "Greatest combat teacher who ever lived, and a great man. No one's arguing that. And I know he's your brother and all but **damn**. Lorna and Sean could be scary but they weren't there **all the time**. He scared me shitless sometimes. Doesn't help with my sensitive ears."

She tugged on one of her earlobes but refrained from changing them like she would have as a teen. Doug shook his head next to her.

"Scared me more. I wasn't the one with advanced strength or mad skills," Doug said, "I talked to computers and electronics. Not exactly the best combat skill. That's why I learned to run so fast. Spared me getting hit by the Danger Room simulations so much. But when I would I'd be lying on my back and your brother would stalk up and be all like;

He cleared his throat and put on a deep voice in an impression of what he assumed was Alex.

"You taking a nap for once in your life Hyper? Back on your feet!" growled Doug.

They laughed.

"We got him back though," said Doug, snapping his fingers in smug satisfaction, "Got 'im back good."

"His own fault," snorted Rahne, "He should have known better than to do a demo on April 1st."

Despite himself Scott started laughing again.

"God…where did we ever get the idea for that Danger Room program with the rabbits and the pancakes?" he asked.

"Group effort as I recall," Rahne said, "I did the rabbits and Ororo came up with the pancakes. And there we were, watching him make an idiot of himself in the observation room. I think I nearly split my side."

Scott nodded, still remembering how Rahne had had her arms around Ororo, both of them laughing and nearly falling on the floor.

"I think that the crowning glory was actually the finale. And he's standing there, and bang! It's Cloud City. And then, out of nowhere, comes Darth Vader and then forces him to light saber duel with him," said Rahne, "Talk about with a bang."

She smiled.

"Giving Vader the powers of the Force was excellent. Watching your brother get flung across the room was the highlight of my year. Credit for that goes to you Scott."

"What can I say?" he shrugged, "I was on a Star Wars kick."

"Okay, that was **not **the crowning glory," argued Doug, "The crowning glory was me locking the program so he couldn't get out until it was finished."

"Yeah, but do you remember the part when Vader said that Obi-Wan had trained him well?" Rahne asked, "I still get giggly whenever I think of it. I'll be in the middle of filing paperwork and I'll just start laughing."

"Yeah, and when he got out of it he was out for blood," moaned Doug, "Still upset you just **left **me there. You know I'm not very athletic."

"Not compared to us anyway," Scott said, "But we knew you were fast. The fact that he knew you were the driving force behind it was the only reason he went after you first. You know how Alex is when he's determined."

"Laugh all you want but that whole prank wouldn't have been possible without the Cypher," he said proudly, "I was really happy about that. I actually used some of the software from it for my new Warlock system that protects Muir Island. It's getting installed at the mansion too; connected to Cerebro for extra security. That's why we're building Cerebro Mark II. We'll be able to have more than one telepath on that."

"I know," Scott said, "Jean was working on getting the basic software down for the preliminary firewalls."

He paused and noticed how quiet his friends had suddenly become, how the smiles had slid off their faces. They looked down at their drinks and for a moment he was struck by the fact that he wasn't the only one mourning. They too had known Jean and, while they hadn't had the relationship he'd had with her, they had been close. It was impossible not to be close when you spent years fighting alongside someone.

Quietly Scott picked up his glass and raised it into the air.

"Jean," he said.

Rahne and Doug nodded, doing likewise with their glasses.

"Jean," they said.


	10. Chapter 10

"Do you have everything packed up?" asked Sean.

Terry nodded, shutting the suitcase and zipping it up.

"Got it," she said, "Even my retainer, and I hate that."

"Awful things, aren't they?" Sean asked, "I had to wear one when I was your age. I thought it was the worst thing in the world until they gave me braces. Stupid things vibrated when I screamed."

"Plastic rattles. It's nasty, feels like someone's cutting my gums with a spork," said Terry, "Are you sure I have to wear it?"

"Only for a few more months," said Sean, "Don't worry, I'll smack the dentist if he says you need braces. Your teeth are coming along fine."

Terry smiled and then hesitated.

"I…I don't know what I'm gonna do when I go back to school," she said, "It doesn't…it doesn't feel that safe anymore."

Her hand went to her neck and she rubbed the spot where the dart had hit her. It made him furious to think about what had happened. When David had contacted him he'd scrambled to New York. Together his wife and his fellow X-Force members had run through the woods searching for the students who'd escaped. They had called and called and for nearly half an hour there'd been no answer. It still haunted his dreams.

Sean had nearly lost all semblance of control when he'd seen Piotr carrying her unconscious form. It had been why the soldiers had been dealt with so mercilessly when he got back to the school, why Lorna and Alex had remained silent when he used unnecessary force. His precious daughter didn't need to hear that though.

"Hey, hey," he said, "What happened was a one-time thing. The Professor and a lot of the other teachers weren't there; it won't happen again. I hear they're bolstering up security too. They're installing Warlock there, just like on the Island here."

She still looked uncertain. Shaking his head once he hugged her.

"You know that your mother and I wouldn't be sending you if we didn't know it was safe," said Sean, "And I **know** you remember what to do if you're in danger."

His daughter hugged him back, nodding.

"Scream as loud as I can," she said.

"That's right. Bet you left some of those whackos with permanent ear damage," Sean said, "You did a great job Terry."

"I'll be in the X-Force one day too," she said, "I'll lead it."

"I don't doubt it," he replied, "But let's focus on getting through the ninth grade first."

Terry smiled and pulled away.

"I hate the long flight though," she said.

"You'll hate it even more next year," said Sean, "You'll be going with Will and Tom on the plane ride then. From what I've heard you're going to need all the conditioning and strength you can muster for that. So train up."

"Dad," she laughed.

"It's true," he said, "But come on. Your mother's waiting downstairs. Special last night of summer dinner."

* * *

><p>"Summer never seems to last as long when we're older," David said, "When I was younger the summer lasted an eternity. But now I see it for what it is; barely two months. Why is that, do you think?"<p>

"I suppose it's because you're not reeling from the excitement of not being in school," Charles replied.

His son gave a small laugh and leaned up against the wall. It was a habit of his ever since he was a child to, instead of just standing, lean against a wall and shove his hands in his pockets. One of his feet would press up against the wall for extra support. As he'd grown older he'd done it less and less in front of adults. Whenever he did see it Charles was struck by how much time had passed since David had been a child.

"I always wanted to finish up with school," sighed David, "I don't think I would have been in such a hurry if I knew what jobs were like."

"And I thought you liked politics."

"I do. It can just be frustrating sometimes," David said, "But it does make me feel like I'm making a difference; especially in recent years. The campaign to dismiss the Registration Act was particularly horrific. Public Relations can be hard to handle at the best of times, but it was a nightmare then."

"I remember," said Charles.

The two of them had seen each other for a few hours after Jean had given her presentation to the Senate. Seeing Erik there had been jarring enough. It had been worse when he had seen his son. David had seemed tired and older somehow. Something like fear and world weariness had sunk into his eyes. It was not the look of a man who'd just crested his twentieth year. He was glad that it had faded now.

Hank had seemed stressed as well, visiting for only a few minutes before dashing off to another meeting. Everything had been tense and the atmosphere had been palpable. Life had seemed to balance on the edge of a knife until the Act died in its committee. He'd heard David's mental exultation all the way in New York.

"I managed. Hank had it worse than me. Hiding Carly alone nearly had us all on medication," David said, "And then Kelly went out of his way to insult him at every opportunity. Lucky he has such a good head on his shoulders. I think that won many to our cause; Hank showing such control all the time. I know Kelly was just aching to get him to do something monstrous on camera."

David shook his head again. When he turned back to his father he smiled.

"But do you know that the President is starting up the Department for Mutant Affairs?" he asked, "Still very hush hush, but that way when he announces it it can go into effect immediately. No arguments."

"Hank informed me this morning," Charles said.

"Well I also know that the President is considering Hank for the position of Secretary," said David, putting a figurative finger to his lips, "Fancy that; me working for a cabinet member. It'll look good on the resume. Only four more years until I qualify for the House."

"You never could do anything by halves," said Charles, not bothering to mask the mixture of pride and amusement in his voice.

His son had always been a source of pride; not just for his maturity, his cleverness, or his manner. He knew he would probably be proud of his son no matter what he did. Still; the fact that his son had joined his family and countless people around the world in the struggle for mutant rights meant a lot to him. The fact that he was doing it in his own way, as a politician and not a teacher, meant something too.

Charles had never been able to hold his son back from anything he'd decided to do; not really. Even when he had tried to keep him off the X-Force roster David had successfully argued his way onto the team. Although he did less and less of it as he became more involved in politics he remained on call in case of emergencies.

David had chosen that life for himself; part politician and part soldier even if he was more politician than soldier. In many David was everything he had ever dreamed he'd be and more, even if he was still young and somewhat impetuous. All his paths had been chosen by himself. Charles had never wanted to pressure him into anything. Free will extended to everyone, not just his students.

"Well, after that only a few years until I'm old enough to become a senator," David said, snapping Charles back to the present, "Maybe by that time I'll just be another among many."

"Perhaps," said Charles, "So many things are changing. A brave new world I suppose."

"Not that new, but certainly brave. I think so anyway," said David.

He sighed.

"I'll have to be leaving soon too," he said, "I don't want to go; I never do. But I'll be leaving behind a cousin this time too. I didn't want to say this to him…but I wish I could have met him sooner. Much sooner. Perhaps…when I was little..."

His voice trailed off. Charles nodded in sympathy. David's reserved manner worried him sometimes. He'd been a loud, observant, questioning child. Then he had turned eight and his joyous shouts had been abruptly silenced. Charles had found, to his dismay, that his son's childhood had ended; killed by the Friends of Humanity.

David had always charmed people but he had never developed strong relationships outside of his parents, 'uncles', and 'aunts'. He had a maturity that allowed him to form bonds with people older than him. Somewhere he still held onto a vestige of his childhood that allowed him to make friends with children. Whatever element would have allowed him to make friends with people his own age had disappeared though.

It was why his closeness with Kurt was such a relief. It showed that, although it had taken a long time, David was slowly recovering from his ordeal.

"I wish I had known about him earlier too," Charlessaid, "I don't know why my sister felt that she had to abandon him in a well, if that's really what happened. I would have raised him if she truly didn't want him."

It was true. If he'd woken one morning to find a blue infant on the doorstep of the school he would have taken them in as a ward of the school. If a note labeling his sister as its mother had been included then he would have officially changed thier name to 'Xavier'. The more he thought about it the more he wondered why Raven hadn't just done that.

Moira had also voiced her doubts, privately of course. It meant more coming from her since he knew she had never gotten along with Raven. She'd mentioned that when she'd shown Raven David twenty years ago she'd started crying. Moira had remembered it because she'd thought it strange and he had to agree.

Because of the marginal difference in David and Kurt's ages Raven must have been pregnant at that time. None of it made any sense, but he was no longer in a position where he could ask her about her actions.

"He knows," David said, "And I think that's the only thing we can do about it. I just…would have liked to have grown up with him if the option was available."

Furrowing his brow David suddenly closed his eyes. He let two fingers rise to his temples where he massaged the skin briefly. Charles looked at him with concern.

"Is that happening often?" he asked, "I know it can increase under times of stress."

David opened his eyes and shook his head.

"Just lasted a second. It still happens on occasion…but they get quieter as the years go by," David said, "Even at their strongest it's a murmur of a whisper and a little pain. Nothing advil can't take care of at its worst."

"I'm glad," Charles said, relieved.

He knew that it had been that way for many years. However, it always did him good to hear his son say it.

"And Scott's going with you?" asked David.

"He's insisting," sighed Charles, "It's hopeless to argue with him further. I hope that his time here has brought about some form of healing. He won't be alright for quite some time though. I don't know how long."

"They say that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger," David said, "But that saying…it's never seemed particularly true to me. Never seemed quite right."

Charles sighed.

"I don't know; Jean's death is certainly changing him. I have yet to determine whether it's making him stronger or destroying him."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure that you want to go?" asked Alex, "You know there's always a place for you here."<p>

Scott nodded. He felt himself slipping a little and he hoped that he would feel more grounded at the school. There were things to do there; people to teach and paperwork to fill out. Although his brother and his wife had involved him in everything they'd done over the summer it was at the school that he had something to occupy himself with.

It was becoming bad, although he didn't want to let anyone know how bad it was. Sometimes when he was going to go to sleep at night he could hear her whispering his name. He was afraid that he was losing his mind, but he kept it to himself. Alex would worry even more than he already was and he'd probably call the Professor. A refusal of the Professor's help would seem like a confirmation to Alex. In reality Scott just wanted to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being.

He swore to himself that if it got much worse he himself would talk to the Professor. Scott ignored the nagging feeling in the back of his head that he probably wouldn't. He didn't want the whispers to stop; not really. All he wanted to do was hear her voice a few more times. He didn't want anyone to take that away from him.

"If you're sure," Alex said, "I want what's best for you. And you keep the old girl in good shape, you hear?"

"You always did," said Scott, feeling tired, "And don't worry; the only time the motorcycle got a scratch was when Logan took it out. Ran it straight to empty."

He still remembered the day gotten the bike. Just after his graduation ceremony, still dressed in his cap and gown, he'd been led by Alex into the school's garage. He'd leaned on a counter. Scott had been slowly unraveling the knot of tension in his stomach. As valedictorian and class president he'd had to make a speech. It had been a nightmare of anxiety.

"I'm not made for big declarations," Alex had said, "But I thought for a long time about what to get you. And I decided…well…the only thing that would be appropriate was…"

Alex gestured with his hand. Scott's eyes had followed the gesture to his brother's favorite motorcycle, the motorcycle that had carried the two of them far away from their parents' house. His breath caught in his throat and he stared at Alex. His older brother scratched the back of his neck and grinned at him.

"Well, in any case, she's all yours."

"But-"

"No buts," Alex said, coming up and putting a hand on Scott's shoulder, "Look, you've grown up really great. There've been times when it's been hard. But on that ride to the mansion I promised I'd take care of you; us against the world. And I know that hasn't been easy sometimes."

He swallowed.

"But, you're coming along great. You got better grades than I did. You're smarter, stronger, braver," Alex said, "And believe it when I say you're welcome with me and Lorna and the kids anytime. Of course the boys are kinda screamy and like to teeth things…"

A grimace crossed his brother's face and, despite the lump in his throat, Scott had chuckled.

"In any case, I think you've found your place boy scout," Alex said, "Or rather…"

He had smirked.

"…team leader."

His brother's words had made him swell with pride; even more then when he was given his diploma. And after all those years he was still close to his brother. He'd been able to talk to his brother when he hadn't even been able to say anything to the Professor. His brother was still proud of him. Some leader he'd proved himself to be though.

"You got it fixed, right?" asked Alex, trying to keep his tone light.

"Good as new," Scott assured him, "Although I'm thinking of bolting it to the floor so he doesn't think of taking it out again."

Alex grinned. Then, without any warning, he pulled his brother into a hug. Scott started. Alex wasn't generally one for physical contact outside of a hand on his shoulder or a pat on the back. Sometimes he'd put an arm around his shoulders but hugs were few and far between. Scott stood a little shocked.

"You take care of yourself, you hear?" Alex said.

"I'm going to be fine Alex," Scott said.

"I know, I know," Alex said, "I just…sometimes I feel that…and it's just…look, I know this is hard for you. But I'm here no matter what happens. You know that, right?"

Scott hugged him back, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"I know," he said, "And don't worry. Everything's going to be alright."


	11. Chapter 11

"Ze town is very…um…"

"Historic, picturesque, cobbled?" asked David helpfully.

Kurt shook his head and looked around him. The quaint street and stone buildings were everything that David had said they were. However, the street was crowded. Crowded places that weren't under the fabric of a circus tent made him nervous. He'd been chased out of too many towns because of the narrow-mindedness of the population.

Yet, he wasn't really worried about that. He had been when David had first suggested gallivanting in the local town of Lincross a day after his father had left. His cousin had repeatedly assured him that it would be fine, but Kurt had still been nervous. However, from the moment they'd entered the crowded market afternoon only one in ten people had given him a second glance. David caught on and sighed.

"I told you the people here weren't like that," David said, putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Vell, you said that, ja, but still…" said Kurt, "Zis town is more…**open** zen I had thought it vould be."

"Kurt, they've lived next door to a school and hospital for mutants for twenty years," said David, "They've sort of gotten used to it."

He made a face.

"Maybe not everyone," he admitted, "Every now and then you get some moron who shows up at a town meeting. They get shouted down pretty quickly though."

"Vhy ist zat?"

"Scotland isn't exactly immune to the X-gene. A lot of people here were carriers or hiding mutations," David said, "So The Muir Island Institute for Higher Learning was something of a godsend. Others got jobs there. It's mutually beneficial."

David smiled.

"I grew up here for the most part you know," he said, "When I was younger I visited New York and I went to the States more often as I got older, but sometimes I'm surprised that I don't hear a Scottish accent from these lips. It'd be quite the family then; my mother with her American accent, father with his British, you with German, and me with Scottish."

Kurt felt a ripple of pleasure at being included in the count.

"I zink I vill be ze vone vith the prize for ze best accent in zis family," Kurt said.

"Definitely," laughed David, "Anyway, want ice cream? They do a pretty good cherry strawberry pecan."

"I haf never heard of zat."

"Most people haven't. Their loss," David said, pushing the door to a small shop open, "Morning Mr. Aberdene."

"Morning," the man behind the counter said, swiping the counter with a cloth.

He cocked his head at Kurt. Although Kurt flinched out of instinct there was no hostility in the gaze; only curiosity.

"Who's the new guy?"

"My cousin, Kurt Wagner," David said.

"Nice to meet you," Kurt said.

"Likewise," Mr. Aberdene said, "So, usual?"

"Two this time," David said, "Kurt hasn't had the cherry strawberry pecan."

"Why no one else makes this I'll never understand. It's not that unusual of a flavor," sighed Mr. Aberdene, plucking two cones from behind the counter, "By the way, those Summers boys going off to boarding school yet?"

"Next year."

Kurt watched as a pink ice cream with streaks of red was scooped into the cones.

"Shame."

"And here I thought you liked them," David said.

"They're good kids," said Mr. Aberdene, "But you tell one to stop running and when you look back the other one is tearing napkins. They need a legion to look after them."

David smiled privately to himself as he fished around for his wallet.

"Maybe that's why I end up doing so much babysitting," he said, money and ice cream exchanging hands, "Thanks."

"See you around, David, Kurt."

Kurt nodded and accepted a cone. Together they walked to a bridge away from the market, almost eerily empty. They ate their ice cream in silence for a few minutes. The flavor was sharp but delicious. He licked a few drops of ice cream off his fingers and looked around him. It still felt surreal to be walking the streets of a town.

"You know," David said, "mother and I were wondering if you wanted to get training for your mutation."

There was a silence.

"There's no pressure," he said, finishing his ice cream, "But we do have teleporters who would be able to help you gain a greater control. Clarice Ferguson for one. She's rather talented although her methods of teleportion are different than yours. You know, if you were interested."

"Zat…zat vould be gut, ja," said Kurt slowly.

His cousin frowned.

"Is something wrong Kurt?" he asked.

Kurt hesitated and sighed.

"I…vhen you told me my looks did not matter much here," he said at last, "I didn't know zat you meant it. Not like zis."

David stopped in mid-lick, turning and looking at his cousin.

"I haf tried not to care about vhat I look like," said Kurt, "Ze Lord made me zis vay for vatever reason. But...only in ze circus vhere everyone thought it vas a costume did I feel like it didn't matter. And zen only for a little vhile."

He took a deep breath, feeling odd for confiding such feelings outside of a confessional. Even then he had never fully opened up about his mutation.

"I vould alvays pity zhoze who did not understand," he said, "But it did not make things any easier. I know exactly vhat I look like; some sort of dämon."

David started to shake his head but Kurt held up a three-fingered hand.

"Vhen I vas younger I vondered if I vas a monster, like Frankenstein," he said, "And zen I vondered if I vas a dämon spawn zat had escaped from hell. I had a dream vonce zat I voke up in my room and ein rot teufel vas vatching me."

"I...I don't know what that means," David said, crinkling his brow.

"You call zem devils," he replied, not looking David in the eye, "I zought he vas going to take me to hell and I started screaming. Vhen ze Vagners turned on ze light nozing vas zere. It took months to stop hafing nightmares from zat zough."

With a flick of his tail he sigh. A strange feeling was rising in his gut; sureality. Everything that had happened to him in the past two months couldn't possibly be real. He hadn't done anything to deserve it. He wouldn't be able to hold what he had there forever. Soon it would disappear like his life at the circus had.

"But now zat I am here, valking ze streets, eating ice cream, it feels strange," he continued, "Like somezing ist about to go wrong. Nozing could be this easy for me; I am not like ozzer people. I never zought I could have a normal life."

"Do you still think that?"

"Somevhat, ja," said Kurt, "I haf zis feeling, like I could do somezing horrible at any moment-"

"But you haven't," David argued, "I mean, Kurt, you're one of the best people I know. The way you understand people, can just look at the best in them-"

The words were kind but Kurt shook his head.

"I nearly killed ze president."

"You can't count that," argued David, "You didn't do it because you wanted to. You did it because some madman drugged you into it."

Kurt didn't answer. His cousin stared at the rail of the bridge.

"You won't do anything bad Kurt."

"And if I do?" asked Kurt sharply, "I do not zink everyone vill be so accommodating then. Vhen I do somezing and there is no 'madman' telling me to vhat vill happen zen?"

"We'll be right there," David said, "Family isn't about loving someone because they're perfect. It's about loving them when they're **not **perfect."

"Tell zat to my mutter."

It wasn't until the words left his mouth that Kurt realized their significance. Despite having gained family from his mother what she had done had still hurt him deeply. He didn't understand why, he had been willing to listen until he had learned she was also a terrorist. Now he had taken it out on David.

He turned away.

"What my...'aunt' did was inexcusable," said David, saying the word like it was a curse, "But you can't…you can't judge everything by that…."

Feeling ashamed Kurt didn't answer. David put a hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt," he said, "I know that I can't fully understand your feelings. But…I know what it's like to feel like there's something wrong with you, like you have a monster inside that you can't contain."

"Vhat?"

He looked over at David whose face had become miserable.

"When…when I was eight," he said, "I went to visit my father. My mother and I went out because we ran low on coffee at the mansion. We ended up getting fruit and cookies too because I begged. And then we got pizza for that night, some pasta. I rode in the cart at the supermarket; she pushed it fast when we were in the parking lot. It was like a rollercoaster."

David gave a choked laugh.

"I think I remember it all so clearly because it was so normal," he said, "And because what happened next wasn't. We were just about to get into the car when this man in a mask grabbed my mother. I yelled but someone came up behind me…I think. In any case they knocked me out. When I woke up we were in a van with no windows. My mother was handcuffed but had wormed her arms around me, murmuring things and trying to keep me calm. I was so scared."

Kurt's lips parted wordlessly. The Professor had mentioned that his son and wife lived separately because of security. He had never imagined that anything had happened though.

"You have to understand that I didn't really have control of my powers back then. My telekinesis was shaky at best," he continued, "I could faintly hear my father, give him a few scraps of information, but my fear was too strong for more. I wish I hadn't been so afraid, so cowardly. I could have **done **something-"

"You vere eight," Kurt protested.

David ignored him, pressing on.

"The ride in the car was the longest of my life but all too soon we were being jerked into this house and I was still crying. My mother was trying to be strong, but I could she was scared too."

He made a vague gesture with his hand.

"My powers were going everywhere. I could hear all their thoughts, and I mean **all **of them," he shuddered, "I knew they were the Friends of Humanity and that, although they'd just told my father we were hostages on the phone I knew they were going to kill us. I could hear them thinking about when they'd discussed methods earlier, guns or knives. They decided on knives. Nothing quick for mutants."

His voice became bitter towards the end and fingers gripped into the stone rail of the bridge.

"One of them went for my mother and I knew what was going to happen next," he said, "I started screaming 'no' as loud as I could and then…"

David's voice trailed off.

"You don't haf to-" began Kurt.

"No," David said, "Just…"

He breathed out.

"I killed them," he said, "I didn't know it would happen, how could I at that age? I just wanted them to stop thinking that, to stop wanting to kill us. My father thought that I sent out a mental shockwave that gave ten people instant aneurysms. Like that."

Bitterly David snapped his fingers.

"I did not know," Kurt said quietly.

"It's not something you talk about," said David, "I was so young. I didn't understand what had happened until weeks later but…"

David hesitated.

"…but that's not all," he said, "I didn't…imagine, when someone dies, a mind with all of their personality, thoughts, strength, ideas, and ingenuity going out. It's not just that though, it's them, it's their soul. When they die it goes out. What I did was more…more…more like a vacuum, with me as the dirt collector."

Kurt's eyes widened. He tentatively put a hand on his cousin's shoulder.

"I don't remember much of what happened next," he said, "But was like two things were happening at once. It was dark and all these hands were clawing at me, trying to lock me away and I could hear what they were thinking and feeling. And I felt that my head was too small and I was trying to widen it so they could get out and leave me alone so…I could feel the pain and fear but I didn't really know what I was doing…"

He took a deep breath.

"When my father and the X-Men they found us my mother was trying to restrain me as I tried to bash my head open," he said.

Shock rippled through Kurt as they stood there, silence descending. He had never thought that his cousin could have possibly gone through what he had. David sighed.

"My father…he had to put me under psychicly, barricade me against them. Then he came into my mind but it took him days to lock them all away in some dark corner of my head," he said, "There are so many barricades, sustaining themselves on my powers, locking them far away. Sometimes I get these quiet whispers and these headaches, but it decreases each year. My parents helped me through it."

Seemingly recovering himself David shook his head again.

"What I think that I'm trying to say," he said at last, "was that sometimes we do things, lose control. Sometimes we fall and the consequences are terrible. You never think it will happen to you, but sometimes it does and you can't stop yourself. But…when we do, if you have someone there to catch you then you can get through it. You can keep living, become what you want to be. For me it was my parents who caught and carried me."

David turned to Kurt and gripped his arm.

"And I want you to know that no matter what I'll be there to catch you," he said, "If I can prevent you from doing something that will compromise yourself , or even if all I can do is help you back up, then I won't give a second thought to doing it. None of us would."

Kurt swallowed, feeling shaken.

"Danke lieber Vetter," he said quietly, "Danke."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**_This actually happened to David in the comics in a similar situation. However, in that version his father didn't know he existed and he was left to deal with the multiple personalities on his own. Being so young he failed and that's why he's pretty much insane in the comics. Still, he seemed like someone who always wanted to do the right thing in contrast with Proteus who, at least in the comics I read, was very 'whatever' about the way he lived. I'd been kind of curious to see what would have happened to David if he'd been helped back when help was the most needed which was another reason that I chose him over Proteus for this fic. Of course, Proteus also killed one character in my favorite X-Men series 'The Exiles' and posessed my favorite. That's probably another reason. I'm only human. _


	12. Chapter 12

The commotion outside the door was loud; smoke filtered under the door frame followed by a few soft noises. There were some shouts and a few screams. Emma knew who it was even as Megan tensed herself. She gave Megan the signal to stand down even as her bodyguard drew her dagger.

When she realized Megan hadn't noticed Emma yawned.

"You can stand down Megan," she said, "It's just an old friend."

Her words were confirmed when Azazel appeared in the middle of the room in a cloud of smoke. Megan brandished her dagger and Emma repeated the stand down signal. Megan looked at him doubtfully.

"Oh Megan; you don't know anything about him. He's not here to kill me. If he wanted to kill me he'd have done so years ago," she sighed, "Let's see here, how long did you know I was still alive?"

Azazel snorted.

"You planned what happened with Magneto. You would have way out," said Azazel, "You would never risk yourself."

"So you knew since I out of ten for observation," said Emma, "I salute you. See that Megan? Nothing to worry about."

Megan said nothing, simply sheathed her dagger but kept her eyes fixed on Azazel. He cast an appraising glance over her and laughed.

"I did not know you were taking in fairies Emma," he said.

Her eyes cold Emma replied;

"You haven't done much research on me before your visit. Megan's my chief bodyguard. Her preferred method of destroying people is breaking in their teeth or sternums, whatever she's feeling like. Of all people you shouldn't care so much about appearances."

Azazel gave her a hard look and it was her turn to laugh.

"So, here you are," she said, "After, what twenty some-dd years, you come knocking on my door. I suppose it's not a social visit."

"Da," he said.

Emma nodded.

"I thought as much," Emma said, "Megan, you're dismissed for the time being. I need to talk in private with Azazel here."

She saw reluctance in Megan's eyes but she was nothing if not obedient. Megan bowed briefly and walked out of the room.

"Khoroshaya moya devochka," he said.

Megan stopped in the doorway and glared at him.

"Govniuk!" she snarled.

With a final nasty look she slammed the door shut. Azazel blinked and turned to Emma.

"She speaks Russian?"

"She speaks seven languages, although I'm sure I didn't teach her **that **word," Emma giggled, "The Romance languages were easier after I taught her Latin."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Hey," she said, "I'm not a bad teacher."

_I always wanted to be a teacher_, the wistful thought came.

She had wanted that. The memory of her hopeful fifteen-year old self approaching her father with her career choice trembled in her mind. The way her father had screamed at her and hit her so hard she'd fallen to her knees came to her mind too. Now, decades later, she had been able to live that foolish girl's hope with Megan.

_Christian always thought I'd make a good teacher._

The White Queen shoved the thought down. Emma kept her glittering smile in place. It wouldn't do to falter in front of Azazel.

"She's been trained exquisitely if I do say so myself. And she objects to being called a 'good girl'. You may understand why," said Emma, "And it's a shame. You two might have gotten along well. She's a teleporter too, not as gifted as you though."

Azazel nodded.

"She yours?"

Emma started.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"The girl. There is an air of…resemblance. And she is very…protective of you," he said, "Your daughter?"

Resemblance? No, Megan looked nothing like her. Emma had also worked hard so that she would be nothing like she'd been at that age. When Emma was eighteen she had been weak and lost. Most of all she'd been bitter and looking for an escape from the crushing rule of her father. No, Megan had been lucky enough to be freed from that at a young age.

Instead of being naïve and lost Emma had taught Megan how to fight, how to survive. She'd never taught her to be ruthless or cutting. Emma had never taught her the terrible life lessons she herself had learned. Megan could put up a tough front but she loved ice cream and romantic movies. She was better. She had never taught to be like Emma. The idea of Megan being such offended her, disregarded all of her work.

"Of course not," Emma said, trying to regain her composure, "She's my bodyguard. It's her job to be protective of me."

"But she does not get paid I am thinking, otherwise the name would have been on the payroll. I checked," he said, "I am not stupid."

"My apprentice yes," Emma said, trying to mask at how close Azazel was getting to the root of the matter, "My daughter no."

"Hm," said Azazel.

He gave her a thoughtful look. He always knew when people were lying; it was a talent of his. He'd had it ever since he was a little boy that Shaw had heard rumors of. However, Emma wasn't lying. Not entirely anyway; Megan wasn't her daughter. Not by blood . He was still looking at her as though he was trying to figure her out though. The look made her uncomfortable so she did what she always did when she felt that way; went on the offensive.

"What is it exactly that you want?" she demanded.

"Blueprints for Warlock," he said bluntly.

Her eyebrows shot up. This was her territory; deals and slipping information. A level of comfort came back and she slipped easily into her White Queen persona.

"Warlock…that sounds somewhat familiar," said Emma, "Sounds like…oh."

She got up and crossed her arms, letting her white satin pumps click on the floor.

"Sounds like that security system that protects Muir Island," she said, "Very good. I hear it can even keep mutants out. Mutants like say…teleporters?"

With a smile she cocked her head.

"You know that off top of your head?" asked Azazel.

"Just because he was our enemy doesn't mean I didn't think he was a little brilliant," she said, "So many marvels created because of the schools for 'Gifted Youngsters'. How could I not keep tabs on such things?"

Emma laughed and stopped a few feet away from Azazel. She cocked her head.

"The information you want will come dear," she said.

"I am not without means," Azazel said, "But this is difficult information to have, nyet? That is why I come to you."

"It's incredibly difficult to come by. But I have a few ideas. And it would be very expensive under normal circumstances," agreed Emma, "But for an…old friend who didn't betray my beating heart to a terrorist I'd be willing to cut a bargain."

"Your bargains are not bargains."

"Oh, this one is," Emma said, "I'll do this for you for free, if you tell me why you want it bad enough to come to me for it."

His eyes narrowed.

"U menya vsyo po prezhnemu."

"I don't think that's true," Emma said.

"Why would you want to know? You don't have to have me say it," he said, "You could have read my mind already."

"Boring," yawned Emma, "So tell me."

Azazel hesitated and closed his eyes. His turmoil came off him in waves. She expected him to rage and try to attack her. Truthfully she relished the chance for a fight with him; it was why she had made her price so high. It had been years since Emma had been even remotely challenged in combat.

The two of them had been trained by the same man and proved to be interesting. Admittedly Shaw had gotten to Azazel younger than Emma, but that didn't mean much. She could still remember him as a child, already fire and rage and loss. One look at him had told her that; no telepathy required.

When his eyes opened she readied herself for his attack. Instead she saw him gnaw at his lip and glare at her. Emma blinked; he wanted what she could tell him very badly indeed. His tail reached inside his coat and came out wrapped around a sheaf of papers. He flung them on the coffee table.

"There," he spat.

Frowning Emma sat down and flipped through them.

"Let's see here…'rest assured Kurt is safe and has been found a place in our school'…blah blah blah," read Emma, "And look, a little note from Kurt to say that everything's fine. What a considerate son he is!"

She put down the papers.

"While this is very sweet, I fail to see this as motivation for why you want to get into Muir Island," Emma said.

His glare increased and his teeth bared in a snarl. Again she expected an attack but nothing came. Her frown deepened before something akin to a smile spread across her face. When she spoke again it was in sweet, honeyed tones. At the moment she was all White Queen, and the White Queen figured things out.

"Can I have a visual on this Kurt Wagner?" she asked, "I think it would explain better than words."

Azazel hissed but still didn't leap. Smiling she got up, leaving the letters on the table. Then she brushed his temple. Emma didn't need the contact to allow her access to the image. However, she had a reputation for cruelty that she needed to maintain. The more cruel she was the less Azazel would wonder about why Megan was there. The less he wondered the less danger her ward would be in.

An image flooded into her mind of a youth barely older than Megan. She wasn't surprised to find that he was the splitting image of his father; pointed ears, dark hair, strong jaw, and a tail. What she **was **surprised to find was that he had rough, textured blue skin. His eyes were golden and there was something familiar about the nose.

She let go and laughed long and loud. Her sides began to ache. Azazel watched her through gritted teeth.

"Oh God," she said, wiping tears from her eyes, "I knew you lusted after Mystique but…oh, this is too funny. You had a son with her?"

The backhand came so quickly that she didn't have time to react. Emma was thrown to the floor, hitting her chin. She shoved herself up, turning her skin to diamond and glaring at him. One of his hands had drawn a knife and his tail swished dangerously in the air. There was no longer anger or humiliation in his eyes but cold fury.

"If you ever, **ever** say that name again then diamond or nyet I **will** kill you," he snarled.

Her eyes flickered to the paperwork and suddenly it made sense. She shook her head wonderingly.

"You stole him from her?"

"Like she wanted to steal him from me," Azazel countered, "More my son than hers. I took what was mine. Could have raised him together but nyet!"

He spat. Thoughtfully Emma nodded. It did make sense. That air of the 'poor little rich girl' had always irked her. Emma had been there, done that, gotten over it much more quickly than Mystique. Her powers had manifested much later in her life than the shape-shifters and she'd used them to shake off her mantle, not milk it for sympathy.

She could easily see Mystique playing both Erik and Azazel. Mystique had always struck her as someone who wanted to have her cake and eat it too. If she wanted two lovers but none of the consequences she would try to get it. Emma was the same. She was smarter though. For instance; she wouldn't have gotten between Azazel and anything he considered his.

"From what he looks like I'd have to agree with you," she said, turning her skin back into fleshand getting up, "So you don't like that he's with her family."

Azazel didn't answer. She cocked her head and frowned.

"When you get inside Muir Island what exactly do you plan on doing?" she asked, "Think about it; you get there and you…kidnap him? What?"

"None of your business. You asked for my reasons; I gave them," he said coldly, "Now, information."

Emma sat down and crossed her legs. Inside of her head she mulled over the situation. She should have been angry at him for striking her but somewhere inside her she felt a well of pity. The White Queen was merciless but she knew Emma Frost was, deep down, rather soft and sentimental.

From the little she knew about Azazel he had no family. She vaguely remembered a tale of parents trying to protect him only to be killed by a mob. Having a child, a son at that, would have meant everything to him. What had Mystique been thinking, trying to keep Kurt from him? She must not have been.

Her thoughts drifted to Megan. She remembered carrying the little girl to her house after saving her, tucking her in in the guest bedroom. When Megan would read books or play with her dolls Emma would feel like she was watching something wonderful happen. When Regan had come to take her away a year later Emma had felt almost a panic; the abusive sister had no right to the girl she saw as hers. It had meant everything when Megan had declared that she wanted to stay.

Megan was her student and, no matter what she told Azazel, daughter. She knew what it felt like to have someone after having everything but no one, someone who was yours. Azazel, dark and twisted though he was, wanted his son. Emma could sympathize.

"You'll have your information," she said after a time, "We did make a deal. You held up your part of the bargain, and I'll hold up mine."


	13. Chapter 13

Amanda didn't like the journey to Muir Island. First there was the ten hour flight. She didn't like to fly under normal circumstances. Her parents had always instilled in her a firm belief that if God had wanted man to fly he would have given them wings. Truthfully she had never even been on a plane before she decided to study abroad.

So she was a little scared each time she did it. This was worse though. This time she'd been situated next to a man who was clearly afraid of flying, more so than she was. She'd spent the whole flight hearing him twitch and mutter under his breath. The last thing that Amanda needed was his fears added to hers. There was also a baby that wouldn't stop crying.

After the ten-hour flight she struggled to find her bag. At first she had worried that the airline had lost it. Instead it was just soaked through for no particular reason. Amanda had thought in dismay of her wrinkled clothes that she wore at the moment and the damp ones in her suitcase. There was nothing to change into now.

With that thought in mind she endured the five hour drive and the two-hour boat ride. She fell asleep in the car and woke up with her neck hurting. Afterwards, with the stress of the day and the million things that had happened, she was very nearly sick on the boat. She'd clutched her lucky heart-locket more than once and prayed for the patience to get through it all.

Warren had also been there but he wasn't much help. He was her older brother Stephan's friend and a, in a sense, hers too. He could also be a bit distracted sometimes and was the only person she knew on the trip. He'd managed to somehow fall asleep on the boat ride, leaving her alone with her seasickness. Not that she could blame him for that, but still.

However, when she got to Muir Island she couldn't resist giving a tired grin. It was her second year studying abroad there and it certainly gave her enough college credits to make it worth her while. The plane tickets home were expensive, that did cause a momentary shock, but she had always known that sooner or later she was going to have to spend a Christmas away from home.

It had hurt that first time. Amanda was used to big family Christmases with her parents and older brother Stephan. Still; it had been good for her academic standing and she knew it was a great opportunity. Her parents had agreed and she had gone off to Scotland, the first time she had been outside of the United States.

It had also given her an opportunity to stretch her wings a little. She had stayed in her hometown her whole life, attending the local university. She was so close that she commuted. Going abroad had been the first time where Amanda had had to take care of herself. Through her experiences she had surprised herself by her capability to cope.

Sighing she slung her still-damp bag down on the floor and looked into the mirror. Amanda heaved a heavy sigh. Her chocolate brown hair was a tangled mess which only served to make her look even more frazzled. The dark circles under her eyes weren't overly noticeable though; her dark skin helped hide them to some extent. However, something would have to be done about the hair.

Brushing out her hair she looked down at her clothes. Amanda wanted changed her clothes into something that wasn't wrinkled by travel. Still, they would only be wet. With another sigh she opened up the suitcase and hung the clothes up to dry. Nothing had been permanently damaged by the water, luckily enough.

If she were anywhere else then she would have gone straight to bed. Her feet were dragging and the little sleep she had managed to steal in the car. While it was only one in the afternoon in Scotland it was closer to midnight for her. If she did go to sleep though then she knew she'd be woken up by a blue girl bouncing up and down on her stomach. There was no if or but about it; it had happened before.

She walked out into the hall and took a moment to get her bearings. Vaguely Amanda remembered how to make her way through the castle. Turning left she started down a narrow hallway until she got to the corridor for the ward for permanent residents. After that it was just a matter of going up a flight of stairs and finding TJ's door. It wasn't hard. It was the only door with Disney Princesses and paper flowers decorating the wood.

Putting on a smile she rapped her knuckles against the wood. It was flung open and TJ threw herself into Amanda's arms. A pink frilly dress formed a cloud that nearly blinded Amanda as TJ's arms wrapped around her neck. Somehow she managed to keep her balance and hug the child back.

"You're here! I was just getting ready to find you," she explained.

So she had come just in time.

"Well I found you first," Amanda said, tapping TJ's nose.

Giggling TJ bounced out of her arms and hurried over to a plastic jewelry box. Grabbing it she sat on the rug.

"Could you braid my hair?" she asked, "No one braids it like you do. And little flowers in it. You know?"

"I plait your hair," Amanda said, sitting on the ground next to TJ, "Not braid it. That's why no one else does it."

"Yeah, right Queenie," said TJ defiantly.

TJ handed her the box and sat in her lap, cross-legged with her hands holding her ankles. A brush was within easy reach and she started to give the girl's long black hair even strokes. In her lap TJ squirmed. Despite how insistent and abrupt TJ was Amanda rather liked her. There was something endearing and innocent about the girl.

She'd first met TJ the previous year. It hadn't been a formal introduction by any means; she'd seen the girl following her around. At first it had puzzled her, but TJ was just a little girl and she'd decided not to comment on it. It wasn't until she'd stood in front of her that Amanda had openly acknowledged her presence. Once she'd said hello TJ had stared at her in silence for a few minutes. Then she'd finally said;

"You've got pretty beads in your hair."

Amanda touched one of the metal beads that she had weaved into her hair. It was all she could do to blink as the little girl scurried off. It had been days until TJ had made another appearance; this time during the middle of a class that Professor Ramsey was teaching. It had been rather dramatic. The girl had been climbing the battlements when she fell a few feet into the area.

All of the students stared at her. They had known that there were mutants on the Island, Ms. Ferguson, one of their teachers, had pink skin and hair. However, TJ was rather more strange looking. She had also just appeared out of nowhere. Her luminous eyes had scanned the crowd of staring strangers for a familiar face.

Confused but recognizing her TJ had rushed into a surprised Amanda's arms. A few members of her class had snickered and Amanda had blushed. An exasperated Professor had told her to take TJ back to her room. This was the first time Amanda heard her name, and on the journey she'd been able to coax a few words out of her.

The next time they came across each other TJ hadn't been so shy. She'd visit whenever she felt like it and, while it could be exasperating at times it was also a little flattering. No one had taken to her so quickly. After a few days Amanda had found ways to incorporate visits into her schedule so TJ wouldn't be so tempted to visit sporadically. When she saw Amanda off she'd cried and wailed, something that had some of her classmates had decided to snicker at again.

This time she glared at them and walked over to TJ, hugging her tightly and promising to keep in touch. She'd been one of the reasons Amanda had reapplied for the exchange program.

"Do you have a hair tie?"

TJ's tail flicked a hair tie over her shoulder and Amanda caught it. Putting it between her teeth Amanda sectioned off TJ's hair and began to plait it.

"Do you wanna know something?" asked TJ.

"Mmm," Amanda said.

"It's a secret," TJ cautioned, "Only my Champion and this other person know it besides me. So you have to tell me you'll keep it a secret."

Amanda nodded, flipping some more difficult strands over each other.

"I gots a King," TJ said proudly, "Now the court's complete. Me and Luna are Princesses, you're the Queen, and he's the King. I don't want any princes."

"Mmmph," said Amanda, surprised but the hair tie blocked any wordy responses.

Finishing plaiting her hair Amanda tied it off. She opened the box full of flower clips and started placing them in her hair.

"It's big news," TJ said, "I want you to meet him. He's nice."

"I'm sure," Amanda said, clipping a daisy in her hair, "How'd you meet him?"

"He was sword fightin' with my Champion," she said smugly, "But he's better. Makes sense; he's the King. He would be."

Amanda struggled to translate the sentence. David Xavier was the Champion, she knew that. She didn't know what to make of the sword fighting though.

"You'll like him," said TJ, "He talks funny."

"That's not nice," Amanda said in mock-admonishment.

"But he does!" TJ insisted, "But it's good funny. Not bad funny. I don't understand what he says sometimes though. You won't either. But you'll meet him."

She had to smile at TJ's easy air of command.

"I'd be delighted," she said, finishing with the flowers.

TJ got to her feet and twirled around. Amanda got up and stretched.

"Good!" TJ chirped, looking at her watch, "Because I invited him and he should be here in five seconds."

The girl tilted her head and whispered;

"He's very punctual."

Amanda frowned. She opened her mouth but was interrupted by a loud 'bamf' noise. The combination of the noise and the smoke that followed it made her jump back. When the smoke cleared she saw a blue mutant in a long coat swishing his tail. TJ squealed and clapped her hands while Amanda tried to calm her heart beat.

"You're right on time!" TJ yelled, jumping into his arms.

"Vell, it's not hard," he said, "I am only a floor above you. Not hard to come down."

He turned around as TJ comfortably wrapped her arms around his neck. He saw Amanda and his yellow eyes widened. She saw him shrink away.

"Entschuldigung," he said nervously, "I did not know, TJ did not tell me zat anyvone vould be here-"

"No," Amanda said, collecting herself and walking forward, "I was just, well, I uh, just wasn't prepared for that."

"I wanted you to be surprised," said TJ, "Were you surprised?"

"Very much," Amanda said honestly.

She summoned up a smile for the mutant holding TJ who looked like he was about to pass out at any time.

"Oh, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Amanda Sefton," she said, "I'm an exchange student here."

He shifted TJ in his arms and swallowed.

"Kurt Vagner," he said, "I'm ze…ze doktor's nephew."

Frowning Amanda cocked her head.

"You mean Dr. MacTaggert?" she asked, "I didn't know she had a nephew."

"I didn't know she vent by MacTaggert," Kurt said, "But it makes sense, from vhat ze Professor told me, of course it vould make sense, I should haf known zat. Dafid may go by Xafier but of course she cannot because it vould be a gifeaway and…"

Kurt fell silent and shifted TJ again, looking embarrassed. TJ giggled and slid from his arms to the floor. As she did so something rattled against his belt. Squinting Amanda realized that Kurt had a rosary entwined in his belt, hanging limply by him. She saw his hand brush up against it momentarily before he said;

"I am babbling."

"Don't worry about it," she said, "I'd probably be worse myself if I hadn't just had a fifteen hour trip here. I just zone."

"Oh," Kurt said, looking a little concerned, "You vant to go rest or somezing?"

"Thanks for your consideration," she said, "But if I go to sleep now it'll mess up my sleep cycles and there's TJ here."

"I know vhat you mean," he said, "Vhen I first came here I vas falling asleep all ze time. My lieber Vetter vas alvays hafing to keep me up."

"Sorry, what?" asked Amanda.

He gave a nervous grin.

"Cousin. Zat is vord for it, ja? You know, Dafid?"

"Oh yeah. David. The political one," Amanda said.

"Ja. But he had to vake me up all ze time."

"Not when you were fighting with swords!" TJ said, tugging on his arm, "You weren't tired when you did that!"

"That vas different," Kurt said.

She blinked.

"Wait, you mean you actually sword-fight?" asked Amanda, "I thought TJ was just exaggerating."

"I fence. I learned it for an act vonce," Kurt said, "I know zat it sounds strange but-"

"No, that's really interesting," said Amanda, "Just, wow."

Amanda smiled again and TJ bounded over. She grabbed Amanda's sleeve. TJ jerked her down and whispered loudly;

"I knew you'd like him. You only smile at people you like so I can tell."

A slight blush crept into her cheeks and she laughed uneasily. Kurt gave a lopsided smile.

"I zink you are not very good at vhispering little vone," he said.

"I am so! You didn't hear what I just said!" insisted TJ.

"Don't argue with her," said Amanda, "Believe me, it's an uphill struggle."

Kurt gave a helpless smile and, for the first time, Amanda noticed he had fangs. TJ looked at both of them and grinned.

"You're gonna get along **great**."


	14. Chapter 14

David sighed and typed into his computer. A few files came up, ones he searched through quickly before deleting or saving them. A phone was tucked under his chin. A pencil and legal pad floated in the air. Several other things did too, like floppy disks and copies of files and contracts. A cup of coffee also circled perfectly around him.

Although he was technically on vacation for another month politics was the kind of work that you took home. There was no way around it. He typed a few more things into his computer and brought up an agenda. Dates for Congress and committee meetings came up. He began listing a few extra meetings, wondering if aide was just another phrase for a glorified secretary. At least he was making a difference.

His mother walked through the door and gave a glance at his work station. She sighed and shook her head.

"Really?" she said.

"Mmmhm," he said.

"Anything else you want to have orbiting you?" asked Moira, "Say, I don't know, a TV or a newspaper or-"

"Mother," David said in mock-surprise, "How could you say such a thing? This is the only way to do things."

"I've managed without it."

"Yes, but we can't all be quite so organized," he said, controlling the cup of coffee so it tilted into his mouth, "How on earth do people without telekinesis manage to multitask? It's beyond me."

Moira rolled her eyes.

"Sometimes I think you were easier to get across to when you were little."

"I wasn't in to politics then," he said, "It's a thankless job really."

"Looks like you're not doing so bad."

"Not at present," he grinned.

"Yes yes, we're all very impressed," said Moira, "but what really gets me is that you're not levitating the phone. I mean, you're not talking to anyone on it. Are you just balancing it that way to look busy?"

"I don't need to **look **busy, thank you very much," David said, "I'm expecting a call."

"Hank?"

"I hope so. For a genius he can't get his timetables in order. Called me at one in the morning once thinking it was one in the afternoon. Didn't he live here at one point?"

"For about two years," Moira said.

"Then there's no excuse."

She paused and tilted her head.

"Is Hank really being considered for the Secretary of the Department of Mutant Affairs?" asked Moira.

David smiled at her.

"You know I can't tell you that. That's government secrets. I could get arrested."

"I'm your mother," she said.

He considered.

"You know, I think that you're right; there might be a clause that says we're allowed to tell our mothers," David said, "And even if there isn't I'm sure the CIA will understand when I explain it to them."

"Don't get me started on the CIA," Moira said.

His fingers put in a final keystroke and he cocked his head at his mother. Sometimes he wondered at the inner strength she must have had to keep going as long as she had. In her time Moira MacTaggert, known in few circles truthfully as Moira Xavier, had been many things. She'd worked for the CIA, been a teacher, gotten a genetics degree, and organized and run a mutant hospital and school. In short, there should have been an award named after her.

On top of it all she had had an extremely complicated marriage. Raising him couldn't have been easy either no matter how much his father was in his head. It was when he looked at her that he scoffed at the idea of mutant superiority. She had learned more about life and strength by thirty than most people, homo sapien or mutant, would learn in their lifetimes.

Many people said that he took after his father. However, those who knew his mother also knew that his father wasn't the only one he resembled.

"I bow in reverence to your knowledge," he said, "All I can say about the appointment is that yes, he is being considered. Still very hush hush, which is downright frustrating. However, when I find out everyone here will be the first to know."

"I'm sure we'll know before the media. And I know you'll be the second person he calls. Hank's practical; you know first so you can tell the rest of us," grinned Moira.

He grinned in return. They both knew who the first would be. His mother stretched and then looked at her watch.

"I've got a class with the exchange students in about fifteen minutes," she said, "Still takes ten to get down there."

Moira paused.

"Hey, were you the one who introduced Amanda to Kurt?" she asked.

David looked up, surprised.

"No, I think TJ's responsible for that," he said, "Why?"

"Just…seems like something you'd do."

He frowned and stopped his keystrokes.

"What do you mean it sounds like something I'd do?"

She opened her mouth and then shut it again.

"Nothing," she said.

"What?" he demanded, "What are you thinking!"

"I said nothing," insisted Moira as she went down the hall.

One of the pens dropped as he began to lose a little concentration.

"I'm a telepath, I have ways of finding things out!" he called after her.

"I'll know if you're in my head!" Moira called back, "I've been around telepaths for twenty years. I know that itch in my hypothalamus!"

David gave a frustrated breath and levitated the pen to where it was next to the legal pad again.

"She never tells me anything," he muttered.

Next to him the phone rang. Because of its proximity to his ear he jumped back, everything but the cup of coffee flying to the floor. That he managed to catch in time. Everything else he levitated back in place as he accepted the call. He shook his head once to clear it before saying crisply;

"David Xavier."

"Hank."

"Always nice to hear from you," David said, "So, how did the meeting go?"

"It went."

He waited impatiently for the details.

"So…am I addressing the new Mr. Secretary?"

"You are."

Privately David grinned and did a silent fist pump. Seconds later he had returned to his professional self, albeit with a goofy grin.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"So dry? Aren't you excited? You're making history again Uncle Hank," he said.

"You make it sound like a habit."

With a few keystrokes David cancelled several appointments. They were all extraneous for a Secretary.

"For you it is. So the appointment is confirmed?" he asked, dragging the files to the garbage, "No if, ands, or buts about it?"

"Yes," Hank answered on the other side of the phone, "privately at least. It should hit the media sometime next week. Hold out on telling them until around then."

"Have it your way. But when it breaks there's going to be a party here to end all parties," he said, "Everyone is going to be very drunk. And I know I speak for all of us when I say that the President has good taste."

There was a slight chuckle from the other end of the line.

"On a more practical note Congress should approve you," David said, "I can't think of any reason why they shouldn't. You're very moderate and your bills have been met with acclaim. Even under the current situation they'd have to understand that a mutant heading the Department of Mutant Affairs is just logical."

"They haven't always done what's logical in the past."

"True," David said

He hesitated as he clicked on a few icons on the computer.

"About this new appointment," David said, "you being secretary and all, I'm happy for you, I really am-"

"I sense a 'but' coming."

David sighed in acknowledgement.

"It's just, well, you know the media will try to rip you apart."

"I can take another shredding," Hank said dismissively, "They didn't say anything I haven't heard before last time."

_It still hurt you though_, thought David, _I could tell. And I know Alex was willing to come over and bash heads. I don't think Lorna or Sean would have stopped him either. Hell, they might have __**helped**__._

"Yes, well, you were just a senator then," David said.

"Thank you for summing up my achievements in such a manner."

"You know what I mean," said David, "You're part of the cabinet now. One mutant among one hundred senators doesn't mean **that **much to the average member of the public. They're mostly neutral on this. One among **fifteen **is different. It will be more…intense. It will be harder to hide things."

It was Hank's turn to hesitate.

"Don't think that I haven't thought of that," he said quietly, "It's been on my mind a lot recently."

He wanted to tell him that was good, but it wasn't. The fact that they had to think about this at all disgusted David to no end.

"We'll just have to try harder," said Hank.

"Trying harder doesn't necessarily mean anything," David replied, "Trying is the key word. We try harder every day. This smear campaign will last longer than the last one and it'll probably be nastier. This will be at least a year-long thing and the longer we hide it the more sensational it will be when it breaks-"

"I owe it to her," Hank said, "Just…you know what to do."

"I know what I'm supposed to do," sighed David, "But Uncle Hank, please think this through. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean…it might be better if you broke the news yourself. Then there could be that whole angle of honesty-"

"Honesty? I'm not lying."

"No, but you're **hiding**," emphasized David, "Unfortunately there is very little difference in the public's mind between hiding and lying. If some idiot journalist decides it'd make a good story then it will rapidly spiral out of our control."

"Either way the headlines will be awful."

"Yes, but if you announce it then you're in control of the situation. You've taken the advantage, you have the moral high ground so to speak," David said, "And honestly it will make everything much easier."

"No it won't," Hank said, "If I announce it I'll make a big deal out of it. If I make a big deal out of it then people will **turn it into **a big deal. Damned if I do and damned if I don't."

Listlessly David looked out the window. The weather was beautiful outside. He would much rather be in the courtyard fencing with Kurt. Instead his job was calling and, like many times, he didn't feel like answering. With another sigh he commanded the pen to write a few words on the legal pad.

"Are you with me or are you not?" asked Hank.

"I'm always with you," David said, "Always."

"Thank you."

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Uncle Hank, I don't mean to keep harping on the subject, but what does she think about all of this?"

There was a pause. David raised his eyebrows; that wasn't good.

"I…I made my wishes known. She knows about some of it, but not all so…"

"I see," David said, "Maybe…maybe it's time to stop playing this game Hank. And you never know; it might not be so bad. The world's changing."

A mirthless laugh came from the other end of the phone.

"Not fast enough," he said, "Not fast enough."

There was nothing David could say to that. He knew he was right.

* * *

><p>Kurt tossed his sword in the air and caught it with his tail. It had been odd to practice without a partner. With his weighty political load his cousin had been pulling odd hours, struggling to keep up their fencing lessons and spending time with him. His gestures were deeply appreciated. He knew David had important things to do and it touched him that he bothered to try and spend time with him.<p>

It was still difficult to practice fencing by himself. However, even practicing with a partner had become a little difficult. For the past week or so Amanda had been coming out with TJ to watch. TJ loved to see her 'knights' in action. During all of this she had to have a chaperone who was, of course, Amanda.

His ears tingled when he thought of her but he quickly brushed it off. He was glad she wasn't there at the moment. She had a class that day and TJ had been forced to stay in her hall. With great care he replaced the sword back in the box and closed the lid. He was careful in latching it back up. The swords were a work of art, and they belonged to his cousin. He couldn't help but treat them like precious cargo.

"Not bad technique, but your footwork is sloppy."

He turned his head and his eyes widened. If he had been younger he would have sworn that the Devil was standing at the other end of the courtyard to punish him for some sin. However, he was older and residing in a facility for mutants. He had been there awhile now and had never seen this particular mutant before though. He would have remembered.

"Zdra-stvu-eetee," the man said.

"Vhat are you doing…who are you?" Kurt demanded.

His visitor smirked. With a puff of black smoke he was suddenly standing next to him. Kurt jumped backwards and got to his feet.

"Da, impressive," he said, "I know. The name is Azazel."

Kurt's eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. His fingertips brushed his rosary. Seeing the gesture Azazel threw his head back and laughed.

"Nyet, not a demon. My parents just had a very cruel sense of humor," he said, "I don't think the tail helped."

With a smirk he swished his tail.

"Not all teleporters look like us though," he said, "I wonder why. Used to think it went with the power. I was wrong."

Still a little jarred Kurt eyed him uncertainly.

"I haf not seen you here before," he said.

"I have been away," said Azazel, "But I hear you teleport too. With same smoke and everything. True, da?"

"Ja."

"Hmm. Your German accent, my Russian," Azazel said, amused, "Such interesting conversations we will have. In any case, forgive my interruption; I am here because I heard you wanted to improve."

Kurt tilted his head.

"Ja…but David mentioned zat Ms. Ferguson vould probably be ze vone-"

Azazel waved his hand dismissively.

"Nyet. She was supposed to but her powers are…not like yours. She concentrates her power in crystals that teleport," he said dismissively, "It is difficult otherwise for her. She does not have…nuances. Not like us. Not such finesse."

He teleported again so he was standing on Kurt's left side. Kurt whipped around and looked at him in surprise.

"So she asked me," said Azazel, "Not on records so not official. Probably best not to mention the lessons at all."

"I don't know-"

"Do you want to get her in trouble?" asked Azazel, raising his eyebrows.

The suggestion shocked him. Kurt didn't know Ms. Ferguson but he didn't want anyone to get into trouble on his behalf.

"Vhy vould she get in trouble?" he asked, "Mein Tantchen vould not fire her for somezing like zis."

An indescribably emotion flickered over Azazel's face but passed quickly.

"No, not with her. But there are many other people. Your aunt is not only one in control of school. Others have stakes here," he said, "But sometimes people ignore them and things happen. Like losing positions. You may not know her but she is teacher. She puts pupil first."

It seemed strange to him but Azazel's explanation made sense. Muir Island and the Westchester school were big facilities. It stood to reason that there would be a school board somewhere making executive decisions. Besides, it wasn't like they were really doing anything wrong. It wouldn't be a sin to just not mention it so much. They were just training.

"Danke…?" Kurt ventured.

With a toothy grin Azazel made a waving motion with his hand.

"Ne-za-chto," he said, "Now, we start immediately. No wasting time, that is first rule. So what is your range?"

"My vhat?"

"Your teleportation range."

Kurt put his hands in his pockets and thought.

"I vonce teleported half a mile."

"Hm," said Azazel, "How many consecutive jumps?"

"I did seven vonce," Kurt replied.

"Sem? Not bad if you were not in hurry," said Azazel, "How close can you teleport to where you were before?"

"Vhat?"

"Your starting point," Azazel sighed.

He frowned.

"Zere has been no need to do zat."

"You may need to one day malchick moy. And this is all about pushing limits," said Azazel, "So do it with eyes closed."

"But-"

"Give it try."

Closing his eyes Kurt imagined himself going away and then reappearing at the same place. It was harder because he couldn't see his coordinates. Even if he opened his eyes it wouldn't do much good. It wasn't in front of him. Still, he knew he would have to try it. When the smoke cleared he found himself standing a few inches next to where he had been. Azazel nodded his head in approval and swished his tail on the floor.

"Vsye v poriadkee. For first try," he said, "But we'll work on it. Eyes closed is just test. Never, never close eyes outside of training or practicing. If you are attacked then you would be caught in a bad position, da?"

"Who vould be attacking me exactly?" asked Kurt.

His teacher shrugged.

"Fill in blank," he said, "Go on, think about it."

"Vell…it might be ze Brozerhood."

Azazel stifled a laugh and shook his head.

"An interesting idea," he said, "Are you planning on becoming X-Man and having them attack you?"

"Nein," Kurt said, "Not at ze moment and I do not zink ever. I do not zink I vill be fighting anyvone honestly."

"Everyone says that, but it happens," shrugged Azazel.

Kurt shook his head.

"Nein, I do not fight people. I am a man of peace."

Azazel cocked his head as though Kurt had said something he'd never heard before, an idea he'd never thought of.

"Pacifist?" he said.

"Somezing like zat, ja."

Nodding to himself Azazel stood in front of him, a smirk on his face.

"I think you will be finding not many others like that," he said, "One day you'll have to fight someone. Would you be caught unaware?"

"You are not listening," said Kurt, feeling exasperated at trying to hammer his point home, "Yurbalo, I do not vant to fight anyvone."

A look of concentration came across his teacher's face.

"Ever?" he asked.

"Ever."

Again Azazel looked at him like he'd said something strange. Under such scrutiny Kurt was beginning to feel awkward. He hadn't thought he would be trained for combat. The way that David had presented it was more of a practical application. Maybe he had meant it that way and Azazel had just not understood. That was what must have happened.

"That is a very nice idea to have, peace and such," Azazel said at last, "But we will train **my **way. And my way has combat maneuvers. You may find them useful, if not so 'peaceful' in normal life. Understand malchick moy?"

Although it was question it didn't sound like one. Kurt felt himself hesitate but he swallowed. He'd take what he could. Improvement could only help. Reluctantly he nodded.

"Yzumitelno!" exclaimed Azazel, "Now, let's begin."


	15. Chapter 15

"Come on," TJ said, gripping Luna's hand, "We're going to a joust today."

Kurt sighed as Luna looked up at her friend with her wide silver eyes. David walked next to him, putting on his gloves with his sword tucked under one hand. Next to the two girls Amanda walked, shaking her head and smiling at Kurt from time to time. It made the tips of his ears tingle.

He'd been in very close contact with her after first meeting her. They both had TJ in common and, as he'd been surprised to find, several other things despite growing up on different continents. Each enjoyed the same authors and had seen a few of the same movies. The ones he hadn't seen she'd been quick to find and watch them with him.

When she'd found out that he hadn't seen _Star Wars _she had gone into a flurry of activity to find it for him. That had just been the beginning. Although she was hunting down the second movie she'd found others he'd liked. Most were political commentaries and romantic comedies. He especially enjoyed _The Pink Panther_.

"What's that?" Luna asked, "A jouwst."

"It's where knights practice but it's like a game," said TJ, "Princesses are supposed to watch and give favors to their knights."

"Favows?"

"Like handkerchiefs," TJ said authoritively, "Then they throw flowers."

She shook a box full of daisies that she'd picked.

"I saw pictures in a book."

"Oh, I see," Luna said, adjusting her plastic white tiara with one hand, "Who do I give favows to?"

"Depends," said TJ, "My Champion and the King are fighting. It's hard to decide."

"TJ, you don't need to gif anyvone anyzing," Kurt said.

TJ grinned at him.

"You're right. We're just little princesses," she said, "Only older ones do that."

Tossing the plastic container to her tail she tugged on Amanda's hand. She leaned down and TJ whispered loudly;

"You have to give favors. You're the Queen."

They walked out into the courtyard and Kurt sighed.

"I don't have any handkerchiefs," protested Amanda.

"You don't have to," TJ said, "It can be anything. Just give something to your favorite knight. Go on."

He couldn't help the way his eyes watched her motions. Amanda started unlatching her bracelet. With a roll of her eyes she held it out to Kurt.

"My favor good sir knight," Amanda said with an exaggerated curtsey.

His cheeks burned.

"Nein, I should not, somezing might happen to it," he babbled.

She smiled nervously and continued to hold it out, unsure.

"Not powite to wefuse a wady's favow," Luna said, "You'we wefusing a wady's favow. Wefusing."

"Yeah!" TJ said, "The King should take the Queen's favor! It makes sense!"

Still feeling like his face was burning up Kurt held his hand out. Amanda dropped it there and caught his eyes. For a minute he thought he saw a light pink blush cross her face.

"What, nothing for me?" David joked.

"You're not my King," said Amanda flippantly, taking TJ's hand, "Come on you two. Let's get out of the way."

They started to climb the stairs to the battlements. Kurt let his eyes trail after her for a minute.

"You know, I can't help but notice that you seem to be getting along with her rather well," David said.

"Who?" Kurt sputtered, "Amanda? Ve…ve are friends, ja…"

"You spend an awful lot of time with her."

"She does not haf many friendz besides TJ, me, und Varren," he said.

His cousin made a face.

"Yeah...Warren. That's one guy I'd like to have a talk with," he said, "A **long **talk. Just because everyone else doesn't notice doesn't mean we won't. We're a sanctuary for crying out loud."

"Vhat?"

"Nothing," David said, "Nothing."

He smirked.

"So you're friends?"

"Ja."

"So I'm sure you're perfectly happy with that relationship," he said, "I'm sure you want absolutely nothing else. I'm sure, for instance, that you wouldn't be interested in having a relationship of a more romantic nature-"

"Shhhhh!" Kurt hissed, "She might hear!"

"And that would be a bad thing why?" asked David.

"Vell…ve are friends und…und…if I did zat, zough I vant to-"

"You do realize you just contradicted yourself, right?" David asked.

Kurt flushed and buried his face in his hand. His cousin burst out into laughter and patted him on the back.

"Don't worry about it. You like her. It's no big deal."

"I…maybe…I…und little more zan a friend," he said, "But she ist an exchange student. She vill not vant to get too attached."

David rolled his eyes.

"She looks pretty attached to TJ if you ask me," he said, "You've got a little crush. It's no big deal. Just…"

The expression on Kurt's face silenced him.

"This isn't a crush is it?"

"I vouldn't know," said Kurt, "I haf not, vell, ze circus ist not ze best place to be near somevone like Amanda. And zen zere vas…vell, ze eyez und skin vould keep anyvone avay, make anyvone cautious."

He sighed and David nodded understandingly.

"But I do not vant anyzing to happen," Kurt said staunchly, "She ist a good friend und I do not vant to ruin zat. Besides, vhat girl vould vant somevone who looked like zis?"

"Alright, alright," said David, retreating and holding up his hands in defeat, "But, just so you know-"

He wrapped an arm around his cousin's shoulders and jerked his head towards the battlements. Amanda was leaning over them and waving.

"-she doesn't seem to mind," David said, "Just so you know."

Releasing him David he got into position. Kurt shook his head once and did the same. From high above them he heard Luna and TJ's furious claps.

"Yay!" TJ screamed, "Something's happening!"

With a sigh Kurt said;

"En garde."

The two of their swords clashed. Kurt could see that David was improving, although he still had several openings that Kurt could exploit. Still, Kurt let the exercise go on for longer than he had to. David would never learn anything if Kurt repeatedly shut him down at every opportunity.

It made him wonder. Earlier in the week his aunt had approached him about taking up a teaching position, or that of a child minder if he didn't want to get the necessary degree. It was a change from the circus, no doubt, although she'd also asked if he wanted to involve himself in using his acrobatic skills to teach some of the younger children combat skills.

He had flinched. It made him think of the words Azazel kept pounding into his skull. Was the world really as dangerous as all that? He'd certainly had experiences that had shown him so, but he had assumed that they were isolated incidents. After all, his family was trying to change the world through teaching and democracy. That made sense to him.

So why was there all this emphasis on combat? He understood the need for the X-Men, understood that sometimes events went beyond diplomacy. At the same time he didn't know if **everyone **would want to be involved in that. It seemed like a harsh, uncompromising way to live. How had they managed to survive all that time if everyone truly needed to fight?

With a turn of his wrist he sent David's sword flying.

"Damn!" David said, "Oh well. I'll get you one of these times."

Kurt was about to respond when a clump of daisies hit his head. He blinked and looked up to where Luna and TJ were throwing them, TJ squealing loudly.

"Zis ist going to be strange," he said.

"I think so," David said, "We'll tell them to bring roses next time."

Shaking his head Kurt bent down to retrieve his cousin's sword. From her perch Amanda waved at him as his fingers brushed the sword. His head jerked up and the blade cut his skin.

"Ach!" he said, drawing back his hand.

He sucked on it until the blood went away, his face flushed with embarrassment. Then he looked over and David winked at him.

"You don't want anything to happen hm?" he said,

"Vell, TJ's squealz are distracting and ze flowerz are not ideal," blustered Kurt, "I vas not looking properly und I…ja."

His cousin had given him a knowing nod. He wondered who he was trying to convince with his rather idiotic babbling; David or himself. It was failing on both accounts.

"Whatever you say," David said, "Whatever you say."

* * *

><p>Luna didn't quite understand why she was showering David and Kurt with daisies. However, TJ had told her she was supposed to. TJ was an expert on princesses and Luna liked princesses. In their game Luna was a moon princess because of her name. It was why her crown was white while TJ's was gold.<p>

Her friend stood next to her and Luna concentrated. TJ was a swirl of white and yellow to her when she concentrated. Normally she liked swirls. Luna could tell that the white was bad though and she wished it wasn't around her friend. The yellow was good; the yellow could stay. She just wished that she knew a way to get rid of that dreadful white.

She didn't though. So she rarely concentrated on TJ. Her blue skin was so much prettier than that weird cloud. It was similar with David. His cloud was more yellow and green but beneath those it was a myriad of colors, all horrible shades of red marbled with white. Luna didn't like seeing white. It was hard enough seeing so much blue in her uncle Scott. He was sometimes marbled with yellow, but most of the time it was all blue and white.

Amanda though, Amanda was different. She had concentrated on her, just for fun, when she'd been handing Kurt her bracelet. At the time her cloud had been a gorgeous red-pink, deep and shimmery. It was beautiful. Kurt had had the same one. When they had left it had disappeared though and Luna had been disappointed.

To her delight she saw that they were still streaked with it though. It was the most beautiful shade she'd ever seen and wanted to see more of it. Sometimes she saw it in her parents or in Moira when she talked about her husband. Luna had a vague idea of what it was, but she didn't know for certain. She just loved seeing it.

At times she had tried to explain the colors to TJ. However, she'd found out that TJ didn't see them when she concentrated. Luna had been a little disappointed. Her friend had brushed it off as something she could do since she was a moon princess. The dismissal had confused her. They were only playing at being princesses, weren't they?

With a shrug she looked down.

"Luna!"

Luna looked around and saw her mother walk into the courtyard. She concentrated and saw that she was purple. That was normal. Luna gave a quick wave.

"Problem Lorna?" asked David.

"No, it's just Luna's bedtime," she said.

TJ frowned and tossed the last handful of daisies down.

"At least you got to see the King and Champion joust," she said, "It was fun. You had fun. Right?"

"Wots of fun!" Luna cried.

Amanda shook her head and picked Luna up.

"If her mother says it's her bedtime then she should go to bed."

"I'm not sweepy!" protested Luna.

"Your mother knows best," Amanda said, picking her up, "Come on, let's go."

Sulking TJ followed her and stuck her lower lip out. Luna repeated the gesture until they got to her mother. She knew she wouldn't like to see the pout.

"I didn't know it was her bedtime Mrs. Summers," Amanda said, handing Luna to her mother.

"It's alright," she said, "No harm done."

Amanda nodded and gave an apologetic look to Kurt and David.

"Looks like I'll have to be going," she said.

"Before you go-" Kurt said.

He dug into his pocket and handed her bracelet back. Amanda smiled as Kurt placed the bracelet into her hand. Luna concentrated and saw more of the nice color. However, her mother abruptly took her off. She frowned all the way to her bedroom. She'd wanted to see that color.

Luna was still frowning when her father walked into her room.

"I tried to call Scott again," Alex said, "He's not picking up."

Lorna looked up from putting Luna in for bed. She jerked her head towards Luna and Alex gave a forced smile. Lorna sighed and got up, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Night Luna," said Lorna.

"Goodnight," Alex said.

"Night," replied Luna.

Once they were gone she peeked over her blanket. She could just see her mother talking to her father through a crack in her door. Quietly she listened to their words.

"I think you're worrying too much," Lorna said.

"I don't think you're worrying enough," said Alex, "Two months and not a word so I called Ororo and she told me…"

"What?"

"She told me that Scott's planning on staying in Westchester for Christmas," he said, "And that he'd asked her to tell me."

Her mother sighed and Luna concentrated. Her father was really blue and her mother was rather blue too. She frowned and clutched her blanket.

"Look, Alex, I know that you're worried about Scott. I'm worried about him too," Lorna said, "But…he's not eight anymore. He can take care of himself."

Alex ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't…we've never had a tragedy like this," he said, "I don't know how he'll react. He's strong yeah, but he should know it's okay to not have to be strong all the time. I never taught him that and…"

He stopped and shook his head. Luna frowned, not understanding most of the conversation.

"Do you think bringing him here was a bad idea?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Lorna said.

"Well, I wanted him to be around family," Alex said.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Lorna said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Looking visibly pained Alex sighed. He gestured around him.

"But I also put him around all this," he said, "This picture of a perfect family…well, we're not perfect, but we're pretty good. Three children who get along well with their parents, loving couple, sitcom shit."

She raised her eyebrows. Quietly Luna put a hand to her mouth. That was a bad word.

"We fight crime in our downtime Alex," Lorna said.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm showing him what he wanted with Jean," said Alex sharply, "What he can't have now. What if I was rubbing it in his face? I didn't mean to, but..."

Sighing Lorna wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"You did what you could," she said, "That's all we can do in the end."

He leaned back and grasped her wrist.

"What would I do without you?" he whispered.

On a hunch Luna concentrated. The blue had given way to the nice color. Despite not understanding what her parents were talking about, she smiled.

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_In the comics Luna was an empath. She can see other people's emotions in a sort of aura or cloud. It's been theorized that she may be able to manipulate emotions as well, a sort of specialized telepath. At this age she doesn't know what she's seeing and it's probably chalked up to being three and having an overactive imagination by her parents. _


	16. Chapter 16

"Watch this closely," warned Amanda, "You'll miss the joke otherwise."

Kurt nodded but couldn't give his full attention to the television. A rather embarrassing proportion of it rested on the woman beside him. Since the movie wasn't exactly for kids TJ wasn't there to act as a buffer. No one else used the rec room during the times they did and all he'd been aware of the entire movie was her comments and the way she breathed. Kurt always felt strange being alone with Amanda.

Although he'd felt awkward around her at first she was managing to get him to slowly open up. He certainly felt relaxed and open around his cousin, but that was his cousin. Amanda wasn't related to him and he was relieved. He didn't know how to feel about that relief.

He felt himself blush. He didn't know what exactly it was that he felt about Amanda. He had the suspicion that it wasn't what friends felt for each other. There had certainly been enough signs to convince him of that. Kurt might have been inexperienced with relationships but he wasn't stupid.

It didn't sound like a crush though. Those sounded so temporary and often times shallow. This felt a deeper and heavier. It was like it would crush him if he wasn't careful with it. There was a look that went with it, he knew, a look halfway between fear and ecstasy. It was what he saw on his face every morning when he looked in the mirror.

He felt that he had to discuss his feelings with someone. He'd never been in a situation where such feelings had arisen. Kurt had never even thought about getting so close to someone. Out of the corner of his eye he looked at her. As normal her heart locket rested in the hollow of her throat. The urge to reach out and feel her pulse there came on him so strongly that it ached. The feeling wasn't unfamiliar.

_Mutter Gottes_, he thought to himself.

He knew he had to get rid of the feeling quickly. She was a good friend, one that he didn't want to lose. Amanda wouldn't want him near her if she knew the kind of things he thought about her. Despite the acceptance he had received growing up he remembered the people who saw him away from the circus. Their looks of disgust were still in his mind. He didn't want Amanda to look at him like that.

From down the hall there was a loud crash. He jumped up and looked at the doorway. Amanda stared too, giving him a questioning look.

* * *

><p>Sean laughed and stumbled. His wife caught his arm and steadied him. He couldn't remember being this drunk in a very long time. Despite his reserved and awkward manner he'd always been very good with holding his drink. Maeve always said it was the Irish in him coming out. However, this was a special occasion. He didn't think anyone was paying attention to how much champagne they had.<p>

"To Hank!" he shouted, "The guy who gave me wings!"

"The guy…made the thing…the things…the thing," slurred Alex, "The thing that helped me not blow everything up!"

"Who told me green is beautiful," Lorna chimed in, not nearly as drunk as her husband.

Maeve smiled and clinked her glass with her husband's.

"He made Sean that red and black jumpsuit," she said, "Looked rather nice."

"Hm, you should have seen the blue and yellow ones," he said.

Moira laughed and shook her head.

"My genetics tutor and the best babysitter you could hope for," she said.

There were a few laughs and then all eyes went to David. Unlike the everyone else he was still on his first glass. Sean dimly remembered hearing that alcohol gave him nosebleeds. He wasn't sure why that was. In any case David raised his glass and said;

"For teaching me the laws of thermodynamics."

"Smarty," Sean said.

David shook his head as Kurt came into the room. Amanda was next to him, one hand on his shoulder. For some reason Sean found this hilarious.

"Aren't you two just the cutest?" he said, "'s like…like…dunno…**something**."

Kurt's ears turned a strange shade of purple. Sean burst out laughing and he felt a small nudge in his mind.

_Shut up Uncle Sean. You're embarrassing him. _

"Telepaths," he muttered, flopping into an arm chair.

Across from him David rolled his eyes. He tilted his head towards Kurt.

"Hank just got appointed to the President's cabinet. Secretary of the Department of Mutant affairs," he said.

Kurt frowned.

"Vhas ist das?"

"Kurt," Amanda said next to him, "Think Secretary of State. Remember when I was explaining it during _The Manchurian Candidate_?"

"Oh, ja, ja," said Kurt, "Zere is department for mutants?"

"Now there is!" Alex said, "About damn time!"

He stumbled and went for the champagne bottle. A small amount still sloshed inside.

"My kids…Tom an' Will an' Luna, they're growing up in a world where there's a secretary just for us," he said, "An' senators."

"Terry too!" interjected Sean.

"I mean all kids, mutant an' otherwise," Alex said woozily, "An'…they can see that. They can look at the government and stuff an' say; that guy's like me. And who'd think Baby X over there'd be involved in that."

Sean saw David sigh and burry his face in his hands. Kurt looked at him with interest and amusement.

"Will that name never leave me?" groaned David.

"Nevah," Sean said.

Amanda giggled and accepted a glass of champagne from Moira.

"Hank!" Alex shouted, "The guy who's gonna make a safe future for my kids!"

* * *

><p>In Westchester New York Ororo, Scott, and Charles, along with most of the student body were crowded in the common room. The TV, unlike any other day of the week, had been switched to the news. After all, whispers had spread around the school like wildfire about what was happening in Washington.<p>

The news showed the official appointment of Hank McCoy, confirmed by Congress as the first secretary of the newly formed Department of Mutant Affairs. Quietly Charles let out a breath he'd been holding since the first day he'd read his mother's mind over forty years ago. It was happening, just like he'd hoped it would.

No one in the room was speaking. Everyone was just staring at the TV, their thoughts kept to themselves as they watched. He could tell what they were feeling, what they were hoping. They had been outcasts for so much of their lives. This was a form of acceptance. They had a department. They had a secretary. That couldn't be taken from them.

With a government department led by someone as strong as Hank monsters like Stryker would never again be able to get a foothold. The incident with the beach at Cuba was truly a thing of the past. Never again would missiles be sent at mutants who had tried only to protect the world. Never again.

The children in the front row watched with open eyes. Some were too young to fully comprehend what was happening. Others, from the looks on their faces, understood only too well. He saw Terry wipe a few tears from her cheeks. Behind him he knew that Ororo was staring at the TV. Hank had been one of her teachers. Now she was watching her childhood hero's greatest triumph on National Television.

Charles felt a small smile come onto his face. When he'd first seen Hank he'd been a nervous young scientist. He'd been unarguably brilliant, but he had been so scared. Gradually Charles had seen Hank mature slowly but surely. Now he had become everything a teacher could hope for from his student. He would be sailing uncharted waters but Charles had every confidence that he would prove to be an excellent navigator.

And behind him every stroke of the way would be David. Upon his son's birth he had hoped that by the time he was an adult mutants would have found acceptance. That hadn't happened; not entirely. However, David was instead part of what could surely be called a historic achievement. His son had done much for his mere twenty-one years.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Moira's laughter. They knew at Muir Island, they knew that his first class was perpetuating hope. He smiled to himself and made a note to get into contact with Moira later.

Crowds on the TV cheered and Hank waved at the camera.

"And that's Secretary Henry McCoy, the new member of the President's cabinet," the news anchor said, "Who knows what must be going through his mind? Through the mind of every mutant out there?"

Charles knew.

_Freedom._

* * *

><p>Hank sighed and opened the door to his house. It had been a long day, but one that he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. Secretary McCoy. He'd have to get used to hearing it. Still, it was an adjustment that he didn't mind making. Not bad for a boy from Dundee Illinois. Not bad at all.<p>

Smiling he walked through the hallway into his study. He'd have to take his sports coat and tie off first before going into the living room. He wanted to be comfortable when he retired for the night. Suits were constricting for him, but they were something that was expected of a senator, and a secretary now. Slipping a claw under his tie he pulled it away and turned the doorknob.

As soon as he walked into his study though he knew something was wrong. His nostrils flared as a lamp turned and he shut the door behind him. With a deliberate motion he flipped on the overhead light. When his private study, his sanctuary, had been fully illuminated he was angrily unsurprised at what he saw.

"What are you both doing here?" he snapped.

Mystique stretched in her armchair and gave him a lopsided grin. On the other side of the study Erik put down a picture frame and turned to face him. Hank tried to remember which picture it was that he'd shown such an interest in. There were quite a few in his study. He shook his head; it didn't matter. Not in light of the intrusion.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Erik.

"No."

"Well, I just thought I'd pay a visit to the President's new favorite mutant," Erik said, "You must be so proud Hank."

"As it happens I am," he said coldly.

"You know you're being used right?" asked Mystique, a lilt of amusement in her voice, "Same old Hank. Always trying to fit in."

Hank fixed her with a harsh stare. He wondered where the girl he'd once known was. Gone, he supposed, just like his original ideas about cures and fitting in. The woman sitting in front of him was nothing like the girl he had crushed on during a brief summer.

"Really," he said,

"Like a puppet. You're just a front Hank."

He let his stare flicker up to Erik before returning it to Mystique.

"Yes, I suppose that means something coming from the expert in being used," he said.

She made a face and Erik said;

"Quite a clipped tone for the government's latest attempt at pacifying mutants."

Hank waved a paw at him.

"Spare me," he said, "If you're here to gloat and menace then just get out of my house."

"Care to enforce it?" asked Mystique, his last comment clearly stinging.

"I'm not stupid enough to throw myself at a man who could kill me with my cufflinks," he snorted, "And I'm outnumbered, at least at present."

An idea occurred to him and, strangely enough, he felt nothing more than a momentary twinge of fear. Curious. He had expected to be afraid when his time came.

"Is **that** what you're here for?" he asked.

"Of course not," Erik said, "Just here to congratulate you. To let you know that we'll be watching your career with great interest."

Hank snorted again.

"One of our objectives, as I'm sure you know, is hunting down mutant criminals," he said, "So your interest would be mostly self-serving."

"Be that as it may," Erik said, "At least we won't be being reminded how quickly our governments fail us again. You may have changed, but the world hasn't."

Erik smirked and Hank briefly felt like a geeky teenager again. Erik had always scared him when he was younger. The man had had a dark presence and, for a boy who had enjoyed being all but ignored, it was more than just a little intimidating when his stare would bore into him. He shook it off. He wasn't that boy anymore.

"A new government, new world, new generation," said Hank, "But I wouldn't expect you to think logically."

"So kind to your old teacher," Erik said.

"Charles was my teacher. Not you," Hank said, "I owe you nothing."

"You should be a little nicer," Mystique said, resting her head on her hand, "Remember; we've been in this house for quite some time. I couldn't resist going into the living room for a few minutes. And wasn't that just adorable?"

His blood chilled. Mystique shifted, her skin peeling and rearranging itself. In a matter of seconds a woman sat in one of his arm chairs, her head tilted at him. Brown hair flowed down her shoulders and green eyes stared at him evenly. He took one look at her and bared his teeth into a snarl.

"Stop that **right now**."

Mystique shrugged and let the disguise fall away into her natural blue form.

"Typical," she said.

"I swear to God if you've-" he started, feeling his hackles rise.

"I said we were here to issue a warning," interrupted Erik, dismissing Hank's worries with a wave of his hand, "Not to stain your upholstery."

"It's all one to you."

Erik raised an eyebrow, but Hank meant his words. He remembered after the beach when they'd been in the hospital. Moira had been with Charles and the three boys had sat in a side room together. They had remained silent for a long time, close to an hour. The ground had been pulled under thier feet. What were they now, criminals, agents, what?

One of thier teachers had walked off with thier fellow student. In another room the teacher who had stood by them was hooked up to tubes and IV's. The doctors said that there was an eighty percent chance he'd be paralyzed. To say that things were different was a gross understatement.

Then, in the middle of all the confusion, Alex had said in a harsh tone;

"The sonuvabitch left."

Hank had started and Sean had turned around. Alex had stared back evenly.

"You're all thinking it, I'm just saying it. He had a teleporter, and he left us. If the doctors are right and the Professor is paralyzed it's not because he deflected that damn bullet, not because he couldn't be bothered to turn around. It's because he wouldn't take him to a hospital. He left **him**, he left **us**."

His words had had an unusual venom to them. Hank had always seen Erik get along well with Alex. Only then did he realize that that made the betrayal all the more difficult to stomach.

"You never leave someone when they need you the most," he said, "**Never**."

Hank had nodded at his words though, and so had Sean. They had never spoken of the subject again. Alex had summarized all of their feelings. If Erik was capable of leaving his best friend to bleed it out on a beach then Hank never underestimated him. The only thing he ever gave him any lenience was the care that he seemed to have for Lorna. However, the allowance that he gave him for that was tempered with the anger that Hank held.

Alex's words to never leave someone behind had become a mantra that they all held dear. It was why they had reacted poorly when Charles had sent Moira away without her memories. They had understood years later when she had left with David in tow, but that first time had been different.

As a team they had never left a comrade behind. Together they had sought out Lorna and Alex when they were imprisoned. Over the years they had struggled to instill that doctrine into the new generation. They needed to understand, to never forget not to leave anyone behind. If they did then they might as well join the Brotherhood.

Decades later when Hank had forgotten it it had been Alex who had reminded him. Baring his teeth slightly he shook off the memories.

"Come now my dear," Erik said, "He's right, we're unwanted visitors. We were just issuing a friendly warning."

"Friendly," snorted Hank.

Erik moved, allowing Hank to let his eyes focus on the picture that he'd stood in front of. His eyebrows raised but he said nothing. As the door closed Hank let his eyes glance over the picture of Lorna and Alex's wedding day where he'd been a groomsman. With a sigh he removed his coat before leaving the room.


	17. Chapter 17

"-and that concludes tonight's class," finished Professor Ramsey, "Remember to read chapter ten by tomorrow afternoon. And remember too that I don't care what's on TV or what's happening in the local town. So get to it."

Amanda yawned and got up. She looked out the window at the already dark sky. It was barely four and it looked like midnight. Stretching she looked at her Professor's desk. Towards the front she saw a pile of papers labeled 'Cerebro Mark II'. She looked at the blueprints questioningly as her professor noticed and hastily gathered them up.

"Have a good evening Ms. Sefton," he coughed, hurriedly exiting the room.

She shrugged and began to gather her things. Warren stopped by her desk on his way out, his backpack slung across his shoulder.

"Hey, Amanda," he said, "A couple of us were going to get together and go into Lincross in about half an hour. Wanna come with?"

An apologetic smile crossed her face.

"I'd love to, I really would," Amanda said, "But I'm meeting Kurt here in a few minutes."

"Oh yeah, Dr. MacTaggert's nephew," he said.

He'd met Kurt when he'd sat in on a few of the lectures. Amanda had sat next to him, explaining the coursework up until that point. Once or twice she'd seen Warren look back before lending Kurt his textbook. It had been a kind gesture on his part since Kurt seemed to work better when he had his own book to look at.

"Yeah," she said, gathering up her papers into her bag, "I promised him I'd watch _The Empire Strikes Back _with him. He still hasn't seen it. Can you believe that? In this day and age someone who hasn't seen it. I watched the first one with him a few weeks ago."

"Really."

"I'm getting him ready so we can go see the third one together," she said, "Comes out in a few months, right?"

Warren bit his lip.

"Something wrong?" asked Amanda.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"There's no way to say this…subtly I guess," he said, "But is that like a…oh God…can't believe…like a date?"

Amanda's eyes widened and she dropped her bag onto her desk.

"What I'm trying to get at," he said, "Is if the two of you are…um…are the two of you…you know…?"

Heat rushed into her cheeks. She thought of the way her heart pounded against her ribcage every time Kurt came into the room, how happy she felt each time she made him laugh. There were times when he was fencing with David that he would look at her and she'd felt herself melt. Amanda yearned to say yes but instead said;

"Oh, uh, no. We're um, we're just friends."

"Good," said Warren.

Her eyebrows shot up.

"Good?" she repeated.

His eyes flickered around the room that was rapidly emptying.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he said, his voice low, "Stephan told me to keep an eye on you-"

"Wait a minute," she interrupted, "Stephan? The guy who can't start the dishwasher without nearly blowing up the house? **He's **worried about **me**?"

Warren looked sick.

"Look, it's not just Stephan," he said, "It's your parents too...and...and me."

"What?" she asked, "When did you start talking to my parents?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't exactly talk to them. They talk to him and he talks to me," Warren said, sounding embarrassed, "It's kind of round about really; like a bizarre game of telephone. But they told me about this thing you have with TJ."

Amanda's arms crossed. She remembered when she had first arrived on Muir Island. She'd been so ignorant of mutants and thier place in the world. At best she'd been on the fence when it came to mutant rights. The idea of someone being able to control people with a thought had terrified her, but weren't they people too?

She'd come to Muir Island with the hope of understanding as well as leaving the States. For the first few weeks she'd still been undecided, her world view slowly being influenced. After a time she had thought;

_They're just like us. _

Then TJ had jumped into her arms. She'd been so small and lost. There was nothing amazingly good about her and nothing amazingly bad. In short, she was a child. Suddenly she had realized that mutants were just people, and not just that they all had concious thought. Most people didn't want to control each other, hurt others, or destroy the world. They just wanted to live thier lives.

Although Amanda had felt confused about TJ's attachment to her she had embraced it after a few hours. TJ was precious and, unknowingly, she had taught Amanda a good deal about acceptance. Her thoughts changed then to the simple statement;

_We're all the same. _

To have someone question it felt like blasphemy.

"What about it?" she snapped.

Warren flinched.

"He thinks it's cute to be honest. So do I really, and your parents…yeah, we all think it's cute and nice and all," he said, "But um, you're getting a little close to the other residents here, don't you think?"

Slowly her face changed. Her hands clenched into fists.

"Meaning?" she snapped.

He looked miserable but she wasn't in the mood to have pity.

"Warren," she said warningly.

"Listen, I'm not a mutant hater, okay? I'm not gonna run off and join the Friends of Humanity or something," he said, "And your family isn't either. You know they're not like that. But we know what's going on out there. We know what happens to people who are…overly friendly with mutants."

Her mouth dropped open but he kept talking.

"I'm telling you this as a friend. Babysitting a mutant is one thing," Warren continued, still looking awkward, "But with this Kurt guy…um, that's different."

"He's my friend," said Amanda, pushing down the urge in her to call him by another name.

"Yeah, he doesn't look at you like a friend," Warren said, "Trust me."

Something sparked inside her but she quieted it under the waves of rage she was feeling.

"Listen, around Muir Island it's different. Back in the States though, Europe, most population centers actually, there are riots and people get hurt," he said, "I mean, I know what I sound like saying this. But trouble follows them around. Okay? We don't want you to get hurt because some supremecist sees you kissing a mutant."

She resisted the urge to slap him, trying to tell herself that he was only trying to look out for her. Her hand went up to her locket, trying to steady herself.

"Thanks," said Amanda, "But I think I'll make my own decisions about this. And you know what? I'm disgusted we even had this conversation."

Warren sighed and opened his mouth. However, she spotted Kurt's tail near the doorframe. With a parting glare she stepped past him.

"Nice chat," she snapped.

Kurt came around the corner just in time for her to catch up with him. She tilted her head forwards and he followed her. In an almost sullen silence they went through the corridors up towards the battlements; the shortcut to the common room. They walked out into the freezing night air. Their breath puffed into small clouds and Amanda shivered.

"You are cold, ja?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah," she said, "I was um, in a hurry to get out of the classroom."

Amanda sighed.

"I guess I left my coat...and my bag...and my textbook..."

"Ve can go back-"

"No," she said hurriedly, desperate not to run into Warren again, "I'll get it in the morning."

"If you're sure," he said uncertainly.

"I am."

She felt his eyes scan over her short sleeves. With a shrugging motion he took off his duster and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was warm from his shoulders and Amanda felt the cold seep from her flesh. She looked up at him and tried to take the coat off. He pushed it back on her shoulders.

"I insist," he said.

"But-" Amanda tried.

"I am from Deutschland," he said dismissively, "I am used to ze cold."

"Why do you wear so many layers then?" she countered.

Kurt shrugged.

"I like how zey look. But I am not taking ze coat back until ve vatch ze mofie. Haf fun trying to force me to do ozervise," he said.

There was a mischievous glint in his eye and she sighed in defeat. Still feeling awkward she drew the coat closer around her. Next to her Kurt coughed.

"I do not mean to intrude, but vere you hafing argument vith your friend?" he asked.

"Just a small one. He's more my brother's friend but, yeah," said Amanda, "He's trying to, I don't know, look out for me or something. He and my brother were on the local hockey team even though he's the son of some big shot. I used to clap and cheer from the sidelines and he used to ruffle my hair. You'd think now that I'm twenty that…never mind."

He gave her a small smile.

"You are not grown up to him?" he asked.

"No. I'm still that itty-bitty baby drawing in crayon on the wall. I know Stephan feels that way anyway," sighed Amanda, "I think, no, I **know** my parents do too."

With another sigh she leaned against the battlements, clutching Kurt's coat closer to her. He stood next to her, watching her with yellow eyes.

"It's just that I figured they knew that I'd grown up by now," she said, "I've never been in a huge rush to grow up but I feel that I should…be able to live my own life. Figure some things out for myself, you know?"

Next to her Kurt inclined his head in thought.

"You vant to know zings for yourself, ja?" he asked.

"Exactly. I want my own world views, gleaned from my own experiences," said Amanda, "The first time I did that was when I was here...it really changed how I saw the world. And it made me feel that I wasn't anybody's baby."

Her hand went to the locket at her throat. She flipped it open and showed Kurt the picture inside. One side portrayed a picture taken after her graduation. She stood there in her cap and gown with her parents posed behind her. Stephan stood next to her, grinning cockily at the camera. The other side of the locket was bare.

"I update the picture every few years," she said, "I love my family, it's just…sometimes they can be a little overboard."

_Like telling you who you can and can't go out with through their son's friends_, she thought with a tinge of bitterness.

"Parents you know?" she asked.

His face changed and he looked away.

"I vouldn't know about zat."

Amanda blinked, suddenly knowing that she'd said something very wrong.

"My mutter abandoned me. I haf no idea who my fazzer ist," he said, "I vas adopted but zey vere not…parents."

Her suspicions confirmed Amanda sought furiously to find a way to repair the damage. Kurt had never talked about his parents and she had just assumed. Now his lack of stories about his family in relation to his circus years made sense. The only names he ever mentioned in reference to family had been that of his aunt, uncle, and cousin.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't know, I-"

"Do not be," he said, waving away her protestations, "Zey are my family after all. Ze family I vant, ze family I vill stay vith."

Kurt looked back at her.

"Your family may just vant you to stay safe," he said.

"I know that's what they want," Amanda said, feeling off-kilter, "But still. They're not exactly all knowing."

"But everyone knowz it ist dangerous to put head in a lion's mouth," he said, "Zat ist just common sense."

She cocked her head at him. His tone was strange; she didn't know what had prompted him to start talking like that.

"Interesting comment coming from a man who worked at a circus," Amanda commented lightly.

He grinned at her and she felt like she had done something right.

"Besides," she said, "There are things I'd like to decide and do for myself."

"Like?" he asked.

"Not lion taming for one," Amanda said.

Kurt laughed. Amanda stared at him, her hands clasped in front of her. There was something heavy in between them then and she breathed out slowly. Swallowing she said;

"But there are things…things that I want."

His gaze was fully on her, his golden eyes boring into hers.

"Like?" he asked again.

Swallowing Amanda tentatively put a hand on his face. It was the first time she touched his skin and felt something like electricity shoot into her. Beneath her fingers his skin felt like sandpaper; heavily textured and a little rough. His eyes flickered down to her hands and then up to her face. One of his hands went up and gently circled itself around her wrist. Her heart skipped a beat as his head tilted and leaned into her touch.

Nervously licking her lips she gazed at the man she was rapidly falling for. There was a deep feeling in his eyes that she'd never seen before. Her lips parted slightly and she began to lean in. His eyes closed and she did the same, knowing exactly what she was feeling, exactly what she wanted, how close she was becoming to his lips.

Then he let go of her wrist and pulled away. Amanda's eyes snapped open and she stared, feeling the hurt and rejection well up.

"Nein," he said, "Entschuldigung."

"Kurt, I don't understand," she said.

He shook his head and in a puff of black smoke he was gone. As she stared at where he'd been the stray thought that she knew why it was called falling in love. It felt wonderful and there was nothing wrong with it, not until you hit the ground. Pulling the coat closer around her she choked back a sob. 

* * *

><p>In his room Kurt rocked back and forth on his bed, his arms wrapped around his knees. The two of them had nearly kissed. He'd wanted to lean down and close that distance so badly. Instead he had pulled away, knowing that he was doing the right thing and for the first time in his life, not wanting to.<p>

He'd heard the conversation between her and Warren. Kurt hadn't meant to eavesdrop but he was just trying to meet her and hadn't wanted to interrupt anything. Her friend's words had stung as he talked about the concern of her family. The words had mulled over in his head as he walked with her, almost making him despair.

He'd tried to explain to her how he felt, why her friend was right. However, he'd failed miserably. When she'd touched his face he'd lost himself for a blissful minute. Her skin had been warm and soft under his and her tender touch was consuming. It was the first time someone had approached him like that. When she had leaned in he had been unable to stop himself from beginning to do so.

Kurt had been able to feel the pressure of the air being pushed towards him. Then reality had come crashing down on him. He knew he shouldn't even want her. Warren was right; it wouldn't be right to expose her to the same hate that had followed him his whole life. The angel so close to kissing him would get hurt.

He shouldn't have allowed himself to get so close to her and now he knew that he couldn't do so ever again. He couldn't even be her friend. Kurt wanted more and he knew he would give into that urge sooner or later. He was weak, so easily broken down. It ashamed him that he couldn't be stronger, couldn't risk being anywhere around her.

He couldn't help but feel like the situation was unfair. Kurt should be able to be happy in his new situation with his family and not look for darkness. He shouldn't want what he couldn't have, shouldn't want it this badly. Resentment built up along with a deep greed. Shaking his head he murmured softly;

"Mutter Gottes, bitte…"

In one hand he clutched his rosary. The other hand furiously pushed away his tears.


	18. Chapter 18

"Your coat."

Kurt looked over his shoulder, shifting the sword he was practicing with in his hand. Amanda stood there, his coat from the previous night in her arms. It was the only excuse she could muster to see him and she held it like a peace offering. His eyes scanned over her but seemingly held no emotion. Her stomach felt queasy.

"Danke," he said briefly, "It does not matter zough."

Gnawing on her lip Amanda took a step closer to him. His brief dismissal hurt, but she wasn't going to be sent off so easily. It had taken quite a bit to work up the courage to approach him after the previous night and she wasn't going to let it go to waste.

"Kurt," she said, taking a deep breath, "What happened last night?"

"Nozing," he said shortly.

Her grip on his coat tightened in frustration.

"I'd hardly call that nothing," Amanda said, "We nearly kiss-"

"It vas nozing," repeated Kurt.

He turned his back on her and went back to practicing forms. Looking at the ground she sighed. Amanda didn't know what she had been hoping to hear when she sought him out. Whatever it was it hadn't been this. Rejection built up in her again and she closed her eyes. Summoning up a reserve of courage from somewhere she said;

"TJ wanted to know if you were coming to visit later."

It was true enough. She had gone to visit the child earlier and TJ had wondered why Kurt wasn't with her. Amanda had bitten her lip, coming up with an excuse to placate her. Kurt paused at the mention of TJ's name before cutting the air with the sword.

"Ja, later," he said.

Relief with a tinge of silence quieted her nerves. Alright, things could be normal. It wasn't the extent that she wanted but she would deal with it; back off a little and try to understand exactly what had happened.

Amanda wasn't an idiot. He had almost kissed her. That meant **something **and she wanted to know why he was acting like it didn't. She wasn't one to give up without getting to the root of a matter, especially when she was given such mixed signals.

Carefully she started to put his coat on the chest for the swords.

"I'll see you then," Amanda said.

"Nein."

She blinked.

"But you said you'd visit her-"

"I vill."

Understanding dawned on her and the relief sapped away.

"Just not when I'm there, right?" Amanda asked, feeling disheartened.

Kurt didn't say anything. Maybe he knew what she was thinking.

"It doesn't have to be like that," she said, her voice halting, "I won't…make a big deal out of things. I don't want to not be your friend anymore-"

"It's vhat **I **vant."

The words hit her like a physical blow. Amanda fought a losing battle to keep her tears back. Her teeth gritted. After everything she had felt and hoped, this was how it was going to end. For a minute rage lent her strength.

"Fine," she snapped, "Be that way. But take your damn coat back!"

She flung his coat at him. It covered his head and he stumbled before swatting it away. His yellow eyes stared at her in surprise. Despite herself she knew that her own eyes were more hurt than angry. The wound was too fresh. Without another word she turned on her heel and strode out of the courtyard.

* * *

><p>From his position on the rampart Azazel watched the scene unfold below him. The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement as the girl threw the coat at his son. Something had obviously gone wrong and it was hard not to see it in a comedic light, at least from where he was standing.<p>

Stretching he yawned and teleported down so that he was standing next to his son.

"Now that is one angry devochka," Azazel said, struggling to keep his laughter in, "What did you do malchick moy?"

His son threw the coat away from him and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Nozing," he snapped, "And I am not in ze mood for lessons today."

"Did not look like nothing," said Azazel, "And lessons happen whether you want them or not."

"It ist none of your buziness!" Kurt snapped, going to put his sword back.

Azazel raised his eyebrows. Kurt rarely raised his voice, even when he was a child. He'd always been much more polite than that. Something had obviously unsettled him and Azazel couldn't quite pin point it. He wondered if maybe he should have tried to hear what the two of them were saying instead of just watching. After all, he had only seen the girl throw the coat. What had happened?

Cocking his head he decided to test it.

"Then again devochkas can be like that," he said, grinning, "Nice to look at but nothing upstairs, nyet?"

A few feet away from him Kurt slammed the lid of the sword case down. He turned his head sharply and glared at Azazel.

"Do not talk about her like zat," he said, "She is a good voman. Vone who…"

This time Kurt didn't raise his voice. It was low, almost like a warning that trailed off miserably. Azazel's grin settled into a more serious expression.

"A word of warning malchik moy," he said, "Love complicates things more than you want. It's not worth it."

He meant his words with every fiber of his being. He wished to God he'd never set eyes on Mystique. He'd known that their nights together meant nothing to her at the beginning. However, he'd thought that the fact she'd chosen him to go to for comfort meant something. He'd hoped that in time it would mean as much to her as it did to him. After all, she had been carrying his child. In the end his hopes had proved fruitless, as he should have known.

Across from him the only good thing to come out of that nightmare stared at the ground.

"I hurt her," he said at last, "I did not mean to. I know zat she cares for me but…nein, vhat she feels does not matter. I do not vant to talk about zis."

Something bubbled up within him and hsi eyes saw red. After his hard work was this the way it was going to be? Like mother like son? He'd be damned if he let Kurt become anything like her.

"Too bad. I do. Such a shame, such a pretty devochka," he said, his tone cold, "But if you are one to leave trail of broken hearts then such is life. You suppose she will just get over it, da? Who cares after all?"

"It vas not like zat!" snapped Kurt, "Zat vas not vhat I meant!"

"I can tell you did not tell her off gently," he said, his voice still cold.

"I didn't tell her off," said Kurt defensively, "I vanted… I vanted her but…she ist not somezing I am supposed to haf."

Under Kurt's breath he muttered a few words Azazel was sure he wasn't supposed to hear. However, he heard them anyway;

"Und engel mit ein dämon."

Azazel rolled his eyes. Kurt's words were a bit of a relief, he wasn't like his mother. However, at the same time he could see that his son seemed to have caught stupidity from somewhere. What had the Wagners taught him? They hadn't done anywhere near enough to build up his confidence as he had hoped.

He grimaced. He should have known better than to leave it to humans.

"You can have anything," Azazel said, "And yet you say you're not **supposed **to have something? Ya ne paneemau."

Kurt shook his head and sighed.

"You do not understand."

"I just said I did not," Azazel said.

"I…she vill get hurt-"

Another surge of stupidity. It made his head ache.

"Protect her then if you are worried!" hissed Azazel, "Do not avoid things just because they will be difficult. You want her? Have her! Let nothing get in your way. Take what you want and damn the rest!"

He teleported so he was inches away from Kurt. His son flinched at first, probably instinctively, and then stood his ground. There was steel in his eyes, steel and a little anger. Although it was mostly in defiance of him Azazel liked to see those emotions. It reminded him how much of himself was in Kurt.

"I have only one lesson for you today malchick moy," he said, "And it is one I have learned. Do **not **turn your back on what you want, what you deserve. There is only pain that way."

"Coming from ze man who said love vas not vorth ze time," Kurt said, looking at him strangely.

"Only when in doubt of feelings, only when you give and nothing is given back," Azazel said, "Take what you want. Lesson over."

Tipping his head he teleported out of the courtyard, leaving Kurt alone for the second time that day.

* * *

><p>David walked down a hallway, trying to sort a stack of papers on his way to lunch. He shifted a few of them. One piece went flying as a student bumped into him. He sighed in frustration and bent to pick it up, only to have the offending student pick it up for him. As she straightened he recognized Amanda and dispelled the cutting remarks he was thinking.<p>

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem," answered Amanda, handing him the paper.

He frowned as he took it. Her eyes were red-rimmed and moist.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"It's just that you look like you've been cry-"

"I'm not," she said, "See you around."

He blinked at her as she walked past. He knew his cousin cared for Amanda so what concerned her concerned Kurt and, by proxy, David. His mind registered the fact that Kurt was practicing his fencing in the courtyard; she could have run into him.

The more he thought about it the more obvious it seemed that something had happened between the two of them. However, she hadn't been forthcoming. At times like these he almost wished he hadn't been taught to control his powers as well as he had. The temptation to read someone's mind was almost irresistable at times.

Letting out a sigh he spotted Warren, his hands in his pockets. Although he disliked the young college student for very specific reasons he was Amanda's friend. David knew for a fact they were going to the same class and to have them walking far apart was a peculiarity.

Frowning David stopped him.

"Is something wrong with Amanda?" he asked.

"Is she upset?" asked Warren.

"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't be asking," David said patiently.

"She uh, she hasn't been talking to me lately. Got into a fight last night," Warren said, looking embarrassed, "But if I had to guess though I'd say it's something to do with Kurt."

David rubbed his temple. For once he hadn't wanted to be right. This wasn't something he'd wanted to happen. While he didn't know exactly what had transpired he had a good idea from his earlier conversation with Kurt. From Amanda's state he didn't think it likely that she had refused him; instead he wondered if it was the other way around. If it was then he couldn't imagine what Kurt was feeling.

Self-sacrifice had always run in the family, even when it wasn't exactly necessary.

"Hope she took my advice," said Warren.

"Excuse me?" David asked.

"Oh, it's not-"

"All of the students here are under the protection and care of my family," said David, straightening up importantly, "You are required to tell me if a student seems to be unwell or breaking down. I think that the fact that she was crying constituted breaking down."

Warren shifted his feet.

"Well, no offense to anyone, but this is a dangerous life you all lead," Warren said, "I just told her that…well, as a friend, and her parents said this too..."

"Spit it out," said David, his eyes narrowing with the knowledge of what was coming.

"Her family and I don't want to see her mixed up in that," said Warren, looking defiant, "That's all."

A nerve twitched in David's forehead. From Amanda's state, and what he knew of her, he had a feeling she hadn't followed his advice. At the same time it was all too much.

"Okay, I wasn't going to say anything," David said, "I really wasn't. But that. is. **IT**. So tell me, where'd you get your harness?"

Warren blinked and drew back from him.

"It's a rather nice fit. Custom?" asked David nastily.

"How…?" he said before his eyes narrowed, "Telepath. Of course."

"I don't have to read your mind. I wouldn't **want **to," snapped David, "I've spent my whole life with mutants who need contraptions to help them live. I can tell when someone's wearing a harness. Your back is hunched a little; not noticeable, but you walk with this shuffling gait. Combine the two and I get a pretty good picture. What are you hiding? Wings?"

Warren's face turned pale and David knew he'd hit the jackpot.

"You disgust me," David said, "I ran into a man like you a few years ago, trying to hide where he came from, what he was, hating himself. It drove him mad. Look up Graydon Creed sometime and pray you don't go his way. Because you know what? It's one thing not to be proud of who you are but another entirely to go around projecting on others Mr. Worthington."

"I'm not-"

"You're scared of your mutation, and I can sympathize. But even in a safe place for mutants like Muir Island you can't bring yourself to ask someone for support," said David, "I wondered why someone your age wasn't at the sister school at Westchester by now. Now I know."

He could feel a headache coming on, the noiseless pounding of those trapped inside his mind. This wasn't something they could use to start thier whispers though. It was too intricately linked to the wellfare of a mutant. They could still make it hurt though. He took a deep breath and plunged on.

"Maybe there was a level of concern for Amanda that led you to tell her not to be with Kurt," he said, "I give you credit for that. But maybe it was also jealousy that Kurt goes about without a harness. That he doesn't have to hide because he doesn't have a choice. It's wrong to do that to anyone, especially **my cousin**!"

With a final look of disgust pushed past him and strode on. He stopped in his room to put his papers away and collect himself, taking deep breaths. By the time he'd reached the kitchen he'd calmed down considerably. He was meeting Kurt for lunch and it wouldn't do to give his cousin more problems.

Grabbing a sandwich he'd made earlier he stared at Kurt. He was moodily swishing his tail back and forth. David saw that he hadn't touched his food either.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he ventured.

Kurt's head shot up.

"I do not know vhat you're talking about."

"I think you do," he said.

He made a face before folding his arms.

"You should not be snooping," he said.

"It's not snooping," David said, sitting down, "I see you horribly moody. I see Amanda on the verge of tears in the hallway around the time you were practicing in the courtyard. It's not difficult to figure it out."

Kurt's tail stopped swishing.

"She vas crying?" he asked.

"She had been recently," replied David, "And oddly enough she got defensive when I asked her what was wrong too."

He turned away.

"What happened between you two?" David asked gently.

"Nozing."

"You can only tell me that so many times," said David.

"How many more?"

"None," David said, "Look…if this is about…how…how you…"

"About vhat?" snapped Kurt, "How I haf a tail? How I am blue vith fangs and pointed ears? About how vhen I go out I vill alvays be known for a mutant? How nozing I do vill **ever** be normal? Ist zat vhat you vere referring to?"

David drew back, shocked by the venom and bitterness in Kurt's voice. Looking at the ground Kurt said quietly;

"Entschuldigung. I did not mean to snap."

"I'm the one who's sorry Kurt," said David, getting up and placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder, "I can see how much this is hurting you."

His cousin continued to look down and he saw his eyes swim with unshed tears. David swallowed before saying;

"But Amanda obviously doesn't see it that way."

"I don't vant to talk about zis," Kurt said, "Everyone ist offering me advice and I do not vant it."

Confused David crinkled his eyebrow.

"Who's been offering you advice?" he asked.

A thought occured to him.

"Was it Warren? Because he's a filthy hypocrite," he said.

"Nein."

"Then who was it?"

Kurt snorted but said nothing. With a sigh David said;

"Look, I'm going to say one thing and then I won't say anything else. Way back before I was born my father sent my mother away, erasing her memories."

For the first time in the conversation Kurt looked up and made eye contact.

"She used scraps of what she could and came back to him," David said, "She had made her decision, although I doubt she knew it. And I won't lie; I know my parents had it rough, trying to stay together, struggling to do the right thing. And our family hasn't been normal. But they're still very much in love and well…I for one am glad that they stayed together. And it's not just because I wouldn't have been born otherwise."

His cousin sighed. From the counter a phone rang. Irritated at the sudden interruption David strode over and answered it.

"Muir Island, Hospital Facility," he said.

"Secretary Hank McCoy's office. Can you put David Xavier on the phone?"

He gave a slightly annoyed smile. David didn't need this.

"Speaking."

"We need you to come to the office."

"I'm on vacation," he said, "I'm sure whatever it is you can handle it."

David listened for a few more seconds before his attitude went from annoyed to horrified.

"When the hell did this happen?" he yelled into the phone.

Kurt turned from the table and stared at his cousin.

"No, you don't understand. When is the story going to be published?" he demanded.

There was a pause and David swore loudly.

"And there's no way to stop it?"

David swore again.

"Five hours. I have five hours. Great," said David, "Just great."

He slammed down the phone and swallowed before slumping into his chair. Kurt continued to stare at him as Sean came in from the side room.

"Hey, I was walking by and heard screaming," he said, "That's **my** department. And you know your mom's gonna pitch a fit if she finds out it was you."

"Doesn't matter," moaned David, "In five hours Hank is going to kill some idiot reporter."


	19. Chapter 19

Sean blinked. Kurt looked up from the table, momentarily forgetting his own problems. David looked ready to burst a blood vessel.

"Uh, what?"

David drummed his fingers against the counter.

"What do the following words suggest to you?" he asked, "Reporter, Hank, headline-"

"He'll keep calm," Sean said, "You know how Hank is."

"Ze secretary?" asked Kurt.

"Yeah, him," said Sean, "Look, David, I'm not happy about what they call him either but-"

"- and Carly."

Sean's eyes widened before moaning.

"He's gonna kill him," he said.

"My thoughts exactly," David said, "Damn them! I knew this would happen. I won't even sully my lips with what they said. I can't believe this would happen. Those filthy muckraking assholes!"

Under the barrage of profanity Kurt flinched. David was usually so well-mannered. Sean frowned and bit his lip. His cousin looked like he was going to continue and then paused. One of his fingers touched his nose where a spot of blood was coming out. He closed his eyes and wiped it away quickly. When he opened his eyes again he looked almost guilty and ashamed.

"I'm sorry…it's just…you didn't hear the headline," David said, "And I can't stop the story from being published."

"Okay, so damage control?" asked Sean.

David snorted.

"It'll be like plugging holes in a dam with your fingers," he said, "I only have ten. It's going to come and there isn't anything we can do about it."

He sighed.

"And when it does no one at that office is going to be able to stop him. Even I'm a longshot if I'm to be perfectly honest. Only reason I may be able to do anything is because of my telepathy, and I don't want it to come to that."

"Neither do I, but you know how Hank is when Carly comes into the picture," said Sean, "I can't blame him. Are you sure you can stop him?"

Utterly confused Kurt looked between the two men.

"As sure as I can be, which isn't very," David said, "But there's no way to get to Washington in five hours."

Kurt coughed. Both men turned and looked at him.

"I could get you zere," he said, "I haf been practicing."

David opened his mouth slightly.

"I didn't know you had that kind of range," he said, "And Clarice hasn't told me anything..."

"I don't," said Kurt, "But if I did lots of little jumps zen I vould be able to get you zere in about an hour. I vould haf to take a break; it might not be comfortable for you eizer. Ve might actually end up in ze ocean vonce or tvice. Maybe more. But it vould vork."

A slow smile of relief spread over David's face.

"Alright," he said, "I'll go upstairs and tell my mother that I'll be leaving a few days early. This has media scandal written all over it."

With another smile David hurried out of the room. Kurt was glad he could help and it would get him off of Muir Island for a bit and away from Amanda. He'd always been taught not to run from his problems, but he couldn't see any other solution to his current predicament. He just needed to get away from it all for a bit.

When David came back down ten minutes later his mother and Alex were tailing after him. Moira leaned up against the wall and sighed. Only then did Kurt wonder about the toll this was taking on her. Her husband and son were constantly away from her. He wondered what sort of inner strength she must have to put up with it.

"When you get there," Alex said, "You tell Hank they don't know what they're talking about. You got that? And that we're all behind him. Hell, I'll buy some of those newspapers just to burn them."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate the sentiment," sighed David, walking over to Kurt, "Mom, I'm sorry I have to leave so soon. Kurt will probably be back sooner than I will."

"Just as long as you're back for Christmas," she said softly.

David nodded and linked arms with Kurt.

"See you soon," he said.

His mother nodded and then Kurt concentrated. Smoke enveloped them and the ended up on the outskirts of the island where they could see the ocean.

"Vhich direction is ze U.S in?" Kurt asked.

"That one," said David, pointing.

Kurt nodded and teleported. True to his warning, there was a brief splash of water as the ocean rushed around them. Freezing salt water invaded his lungs and he gripped David by the shirt collar. They had only seconds of air when he teleported them out, this time orchestrating things so they fell **into **the ocean.

He did this several more times. Each jump got longer as Kurt could see a longer stretch of water. His training with Azazel was certainly helping. When they finally reached land he saw a sign that proclaimed they were on a beach in Florida. Next to him David got on his knees and spat out some salt water.

"Let's take a break," Kurt coughed.

David laid on his back and gave a weak chuckle.

"Quite a power there," he said.

"Entschuldigung," Kurt murmured, "I do not haf a very good range und your suit ist ruined-"

"Don't apologize. It was amazing, even if it did leave me a little queasy," David said, his head flopping on the sand.

He closed his eyes. Kurt hesitated, letting his tail swish behind him.

"I did not vant to ask earlier," he said, "Everyone vas so vorried."

Although he didn't want to add it he had also been caught up in the warm feeling of being useful and being given a reprieve from his problems.

"But vhat ist happening?" he asked, "Who ist Carly? Vhy ist zis bad?"

David sighed.

"You have to understand Kurt, Hank is…he's like Alex, Sean, and Lorna," he said, "Old student of my father and one of my 'uncles'. Taught me a lot and now I work for him. He's family Kurt, even if not by blood."

Dimly Kurt remembered the blue animal-like mutant in the picture with David in his uncle's office. Everyone had been so happy when he'd received a cabinet position. He nodded.

"And Carly…well…that's rather complicated…"

David coughed.

"Let me just...I'll tell you what **I **know about it. Granted, it's not everything. But it happened around five years ago in Chicago," he said, "I was sixteen, just graduated from college. I was pretty full of myself at the time but I realized I was too young to do the kind of work that I wanted to do. So I started helping run campaigns for small time local things. A few mayoral positions, one governor. That sort of thing."

He sighed.

"But I was getting frustrated and, to be perfectly frank, it showed. That's why Uncle Alex had this idea," said David, "He came to me and said that the Friends of Humanity branch in Chicago were getting a little too militant, even for them. Mutants were going missing. He wanted to send a spy in, preferably someone younger and unlikely to attract suspicion."

"But veren't zey ze vones zat-" started Kurt.

"Yes, he was uncomfortable suggesting it. But I thought I could handle it. I had been trained for combat most of my life and he would be there for back-up," said David, "Hank was working at a local eye clinic too, some experimental treatment to give blind patients their sight back. He didn't know about my mission but I wouldn't be anywhere near alone. My parents wouldn't see it that way though. They...they'd keep thinking of my ordeal. But like I said; I thought I could handle it."

David rubbed his temples.

"And Kurt…I grew up around the X-Force, around X-Men. I wanted to be one rather badly," he said, "So I assumed the identity of Lucas Haller and for one month, under the guise of running a campaign in California to my parents, I spied on the Friends of Humanity."

His cousin suddenly looked disturbed.

"You have no idea what they're like Kurt," he said, "I hope you never come across them. They were…just listening to all that filth they spouted…I just wanted to go home but I couldn't tell Alex that."

"Vhy not?" asked Kurt.

"He'd pull me out," David said, "I thought I knew best. I was feeling a little rebellious and very stupid. You know; sixteen."

He sighed again.

"Which brings me to how I left and, in a manner, Carly as well."

* * *

><p><em>5 years earlier<em>

David pulled his baseball cap further over his eyes. He was starting to wonder if it wasn't time to pull out. It was a miracle he'd been able to hide his mission from his father for as long as he had. Having more than one telepath in the family was both exciting and frustrating at others. Already he knew his father suspected something was wrong.

However, it was more than just a matter of hiding and having to hear what the supremacists believed. Under the familiar chants the people imprisoned in his head had started howling. An almost constant migraine was starting up and he was having nosebleeds every other day.

At least he was making some progress. He'd found out some rather interesting information about the leader of The Friends of Humanity, Graydon Creed. It had been difficult, but by piecing a few things together and doing a little research he'd had worthwhile results. Now the final piece of information had fallen into place; a mention of Canada as Graydon's original birthplace. It was worth reporting.

He tapped his earpiece. It was disguised as a hearing aid; an ingenious invention of Hank's. When asked he'd simply told the Friends that his ear canal had been impaired after a mutant-related road accident. The same excuse had been used for his occasional nosebleeds and sunglasses he wore. When they'd been planning the disguised they figured a semi-invalid who'd been damaged by mutants would work. The Friends would be sympathetic.

It had disgusted him how quickly they had accepted that as a reasonable explanation though. He hadn't even had to get technical on them or show the forged doctor's note. They were stupid but violent. Never a good combination. He walked into the coat room where he was sure no one was. Crouching down he whispered;

"Havok?"

The codename sounded strange on his tongue, but it had become standard procedure.

"Legion? Why are you calling?" Alex asked.

"Got some news," David said.

"So do we. I'm heading over there," he said, "Beast's on his way too."

"What's going on?" asked David.

"The Friends of Humanity kidnapped one of Beast's patients, a girl named Caroline Trilby. Goes by Carly. She was the one he was using the experimental treatment on."

On the other end Alex coughed.

"It worked, by the way. The procedure I mean."

"Okay, so she's not blind anymore. It'll make escaping easier. But they abduct a patient just because her doctor is a mutant?" asked David, his nose starting to bleed as the voices in his head clambered in joy, "I'm sad to say I can believe it."

There was a pause as David dabbed his nose.

"She um…she's not just his patient. From what I know, and it's not much, they…they uh….her and Beast kind of…yeah."

David stopped in mid-dab.

"She's with Beast?" he asked, his voice incredulous.

In all the time he'd known his uncle, which was all his sixteen years, he'd never seen Hank interested in having a relationship. He'd always focused on his work. The idea that he'd fallen for someone made him happy; Hank was family after all. The idea that the people who had been making David physically sick every day held her made him angry.

"Got you. I'll try to find and get her out."

"Hope so. I heard Beast on the radio," Alex said, "The word pissed doesn't come **close**. He's going to rip them apart."

"I sort of hope he does," said David, "But he's outnumbered. There's a ton of them here and, as you well know, they're well-armed."

"I'm not letting him go alone," Alex said.

"Neither am I," David said.

There was another pause.

"What was it you had to say earlier?" asked Alex.

"Nothing, just that when we get back we need to get the Cerebro file on Sabretooth and leak it to the media. Or at least some the information," he said "Looks like there aren't that many people named Creed. But later. Legion out."

He clicked the earpiece to neutral and headed out of the coat room. Trying to look nonchalant he headed towards the backroom. He'd been suspicious about it for some time and it was the only place he could imagine that someone would be held. As a new member he hadn't been allowed there, but rules were made for breaking. Two guards were playing cards in front of the door and looked up when he came in.

"New members aren't allowed in here!" one said, getting up.

David put a hand to his forehead and concentrated. The two of them fell to the floor; asleep. He winced with the effort. It always did take more strength to put people to sleep then to just throw them up a wall. Silence would have to be his watchword for the moment though. Quietly he went up to the door and pressed his ear against it.

Through the woodwork he could hear a feminine voice shout;

"You bigot! I don't need to answer any of your questions!"

Feeling faintly impressed with whoever this Carly was David withdrew from the door. He tried the doorknob. Predictably it was locked but he concentrated. He could see the little pieces that kept the door shut. Gingerly he moved them with his mind until the door unlocked with a click. Smiling he opened the door.

"Let go of me!"

Inside was Graydon Creed and a young woman with green eyes and soft brown hair. On a normal day she would have been startlingly beautiful. Instead she looked like she'd been through hell. She was tied up with ropes and in her nightgown. Graydon's hand had gripped her under the chin in what must have been a bruising grip. Several bruises already riddled her skin and her lip was split. Anger clenched in his stomach just as Graydon turned to look at him.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded, "New members aren't allowed in here!"

Ignoring him David strode into the room.

"So they keep telling me," David said, "Let the girl go Creed."

Carly turned and stared at him as Graydon's mouth opened in shock. He had never received anything but fawning respect from his subordinates, especially from Lucas Haller. Unfortunately the Lucas Haller disguise had been discarded completely for David Xavier. David Xavier had little time for people like Graydon Creed.

"How dare you?" he snarled, "You have no right to-"

David waved his hand and sent Graydon crashing into the wall; holding him there.

"I have plenty of rights," said David, "The constitution says so, if you ever bothered to read it."

He took off his sunglasses as Graydon spluttered;

"You…you're a…stay back you mutant garbage!"

Throwing the sunglasses on the floor David cocked his head.

"What's the matter?" asked David, his voice nasty, "Daddy's boy afraid of mutants?"

A look of horror came over Graydon's face. Bingo.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" he shrieked.

"Mmmhm," said David.

David threw his hand out and lifted Graydon into the air again, slamming him into the wall with more force. Satisfied that he'd knocked him out David tossed him away. He walked over to Carly and took a small knife that he kept in his pocket for emergencies. Carefully David started to cut away the ropes that bound her.

"Who are you?" she asked, eyeing him with slight suspicion.

"Let's just say Uncle Hank sent me," David said.

She got up and looked at him.

"Uncle…that means…you're David, right?" asked Carly.

"He mentioned me?" David said, pleased both for the fact that Hank had trusted her with the information and that he'd warranted mentioning.

"Yes," she said, "but he said you were-"

"Yes; running a campaign in California. Long story," said David, grabbing her wrist, "Now let's get out of here."

They ran down the corridor, skidding to a halt several times to avoid members of the Friends of Humanity. The ones they did run into David lifted into the air and tossed them away. A few people were too close and he had to put them out by physical means. Despite himself it shot a thrill of the chase through him. He'd never had an opportunity outside of the Danger Room Mark II to use all the training Alex had given him.

They were nearly at the entrance when they found themselves surrounded. They'd been waiting for them. He pulled Carly behind him, his eyes darting around for an exit. He tried to remember his training for when he was outnumbered. Most of it included having your team mates save your hide. That would have to be thrown out the window.

Quickly he took stock of his assets. Admittedly they were few. Carly was glaring at them and he had the feeling she might be able to take at least one of them out. That left nearly ten for him and he'd been using his telekinesis too much to effective against all of them. So he had two options; bravado or surrender.

David decided to go for bravado.

"I'll distract them, you run out the side entrance," he whispered, "Back up's coming."

"But-" she said, her voice loud.

"No buts," he said.

Squaring his shoulders he glared at the surrounding guards.

"Alright, who's first?" he snapped.

From somewhere above them there was a roar. The ceiling began to shake and bits of plaster rained down. He suddenly realized what was going on. Seconds before the ceiling came down completely he dived to the left, pushing Carly down with him. The guards weren't so lucky. A cloud of plaster was kicked up, making him cough. When it cleared he saw Hank standing in the middle of the rubble and broken guards from several floors.

David had never seen his urbane uncle in worse shape, never as injured. Blood matted in his fur, contrasting with the blue. He looked exhausted but was able to spot them.

"Carly," he breathed.

With another breath he collapsed on the floor. Carly scrambled to her feet and rushed to his side. Her arms wrapped around his neck and tears spilt down her cheeks.

"Hank," she murmured.

From his left came the pounding of feet. David got up as more guards rushed into the room. The first wave he pushed away with his telekinesis. The second were blasted with a red beam that ripped through the walls. Carly looked up in time to see Alex climb through the hole in the wall that he'd created. His eyes flickered over them.

"Come on," he said, "Let's get out of here."

As a group they managed to carry Hank into Alex's waiting car. David got into the passenger's seat as Alex accelerated into the night. Looking in the review mirror David saw Carly cradling Hank as he slowly came into consciousness. For the first time David felt that, despite all the awful things he'd seen at during his time among the Friends of Humanity, something good had come of it all.

* * *

><p>"A week afterwards Hank tried to break up with her," David said, much more settled as they waited, "He thought he was endangering her. But…he hurt her because he didn't…because all he could think about was how negatively he'd affect her. In the end she wouldn't leave him."<p>

Kurt felt something twist inside of his stomach. He thought guiltily of the woman he loved and had left at Muir Island.

"I had already gone home by then. I had to get the Cerebro file on Sabretooth, Graydon's father. Got him kicked out of the Friends of Humanity but in the process my parents found out what I'd been doing. I got quite the earful," continued David, oblivious of Kurt's reaction, "And that argument went on for ages. Still, Alex told me about it. Carly got him on her side and he told her where Hank was staying. I'm not sure what she said to him but…they've been together for nearly five years. They've been engaged for two of those years."

He sighed.

"He's very protective of her, I'm sure you'll understand. She accepted all of him, loved him despite everything, and Hank…Hank hasn't had much of that outside his family and very close friends," David said, "He knew what the media would say about her when they found out they were in a relationship. He wanted to protect her from that. I couldn't say no when he asked me and a few of the aides to help him. They're mutants too; they understand to some extent. So we…didn't lie exactly...just didn't mention it."

"But now zey know."

"But now they know," agreed David, "And…God. When I heard about it it was like being back with the Friends of Humanity. Just disgusted me…I heard they used the word bestiality…I'd like to have five minutes alone with them. Just five."

David breathed out.

"Still, we can't think like that. I can't let him go rampaging like he did when she was taken," he said, "It would destroy him mentally **and **politically. And he's family. I need to help."

He got to his feet.

"I'm ready," he said, "Can we make another jump now?"

Kurt got to his feet, already thinking unhappily of Amanda.

"Ja," he said, "Let's go."

Taking his cousin's hand they disappeared from the beach, heading towards Washington. 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Carly was a character created for the first X-Men cartoon from the early 90's. She was in the episode 'Beauty and the Beast', the only episode she was in I believe. It was a shame; she seemed to have a pretty good character and I would have liked to see more of her. It was one of the reasons I decided to put her into the story, as well as the parallels between her relationship with Hank and Kurt's current troubles. _

_Her background is taken from the episode 'Beauty and the Beast' where she was a patient that Hank was treating. She did get captured by the Friends of Humanity and, as a result of the rescue mission, it came out who Graydon Creed's father was. The spy in that episode was Wolverine and Cyclops was the background but I switched it around for continuity. A lot of the dialogue in the flashback is taken from that episode and yes, Hank actually did rip apart a building of soldiers looking for her. There's dedication for you. _


	20. Chapter 20

Although David had known that he needed to get to Washington, he hadn't been looking forward to it. It was why he had asked Kurt to stop by the apartment that he had rented in his name. Ostensibly it was to shower the salt and sand out of his hair and to find new clothes for the both of them. In reality he had just wanted to put off the inevitable.

The hot shower had given him time to think though. Dealing with the article was going to be a nightmare, but dealing with Hank would be hell. He had a reasonable idea that he would be able to survive a nightmare after hell. Still, hell was called hell for a reason. At least he knew how to deal with bad press.

As he combed out his hair he tried to think up a plan of action. He would have to tread delicately and, since the office was not the place to do it, he'd have to go to Hank's apartment. It was safer to do it there, not to mention better because of the time. He continued to think as he picked out new clothes, both for himself and his cousin.

By the time he was dressed he had an outline of his plan. David knew that he alone couldn't be counted on to quell Hank's hate by himself. His codename wasn't Beast for nothing. However, David's was Legion. He could be in several places at once, at least mentally. Putting a hand to his forehead he concentrated, letting his mind drift to the house that Hank kept a few miles out of city limits.

Alright, at least that was right. It was obvious when he thought about it. He removed his hand and looked at his watch. It was midnight in Washington. With a sigh he went out into the hallway. Kurt was waiting there, looking uncomfortable in David's clothes. They were both the same height but the differences in physiology wasn't helping . He gave him an apologetic smile before saying;

"Kurt, I'm sorry to ask this, but there's something else I need you to do."

Kurt listened and nodded to David's instructions. Then, he reached out. In a puff of smoke they were off for Hank's apartment. His cousin dropped him on the doorstep before disappearing in another cloud of smoke. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. Hank opened it in his pajamas and looked at David in surprise.

"Hey Uncle Hank," David said, "Late night at the office?"

"As always. Otherwise I'd be at my house," said Hank, sighing, "What are you doing here?"

"Long story," said David, "Let's just say that having a teleporter as a cousin can be quite handy. Can I come in?"

Hank gave him a strange look and opened the door wider. David stepped in and took a seat in the living room. Hank took one opposite him.

"I thought you were going to be on Muir Island for another week," he said.

"Ideally yes," David said, "But…I'm afraid that I have some bad news."

Taking a deep breath he explained everything as he understood it. Hank's face went from incredulous to dark by the end of it. David swallowed uncomfortably as Hank's lip curled into a snarl. Half of his instincts told him to run and the other half told him to get into his mind. This was Hank though; the man who'd taught him the difference between a particle and a wave. He couldn't just start poking around in his mind.

"Who wrote it?" Hank growled, "What newspaper?"

"Hank-" started David.

"I know you know," Hank snapped, rising out of his chair, "So tell me. I'll give them something to write about."

"Please calm down for a minute," David said, wondering wildly where his cousin was, "Ripping someone into pieces isn't going to help anyone."

"Who said there'd be any ripping?" asked Hank, "Just breaking."

David winced.

"It's okay Hank, it's okay-"

"How is this okay!" snarled Hank.

Looking back David could see that it had been a poor choice of words.

"It's not going to help," he said, "Whatever you want to do you won't change anything. The article's already gone to print."

"I won't let them say that about her!"

"It's too late," pleaded David, getting up, "Listen to me for a minute. I know what you want to do and believe me when I say that part of me wants to too. But think of everything you've worked for-"

"What good does it do when there are people like that out there!" Hank raged.

His arm lashed out and knocked a lamp onto the ground. It shattered and David winced.

"What good does it do?" yelled Hank.

"Plenty," David said, wishing he knew of a better way to stall, "Will you be able to look everyone at the Institute in the eye if you did this, if you went on a rampage? Think for a minute! Please!"

He reached out with his hand but Hank jerked away. David didn't want to go into his mind but it was looking like it was his last chance. He hadn't expected things to go south that quickly. Then, to his immense relief he heard the jangle of a key in the lock. Unfortunately Hank didn't seem to hear it, another one of his hands crushing a side table.

The door opened and a woman walked in. She was in her early thirties, her waves of soft brown hair hanging loosely. Her hands clutched a bathrobe around her shoulders and her feet were bare. Behind her Kurt stood silently, shutting the door. The woman didn't turn around, just looked from the shattered lamp and table to Hank.

Hank put a hand over his face and looked away.

"I'm sorry Carly."

* * *

><p>Next to him David gave a brief cough.<p>

"Come on Kurt. Let's go to the uh, kitchen."

Kurt nodded and the two hurried out of the room. Carly took a few tentative steps forward and touched Hank's face. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Carly said softly.

"Yes there is," he said, "You weren't meant to see that."

"Well, it's just a lamp and an end table," she said, "things happen."

Carly paused and moved closer to him.

"Mr. Wagner explained what happened," said Carly softly.

"You don't know what they wrote," Hank said, grasping her wrist, "I didn't want this for you, I never wanted this for you-"

"Shhhh," she said, standing on her tip toes so she could kiss him lightly on his lips, "It's alright."

"No it's not," he protested, "It's going to be a circus. You don't know these people like I do. They'll say things, and then they'll pour over every little thing that you've done without a shred of fairness."

"I know," Carly said.

"Then how can you say it's alright?" asked Hank, his paw-like hands encircling her wrists, "This will go on for every minute of every day. And when it breaks tomorrow you won't be able to go anywhere without anyone saying something disgusting."

"I know," Carly repeated, her tone still soft and soothing.

"_I know," said Carly, her then sightless eyes staring where his face was. _

_Hank took a step back. He'd been so careful not to let her know about his mutation. He'd never so much as brushed his claw against her cheek, though he'd been tempted to do so more than once. Whenever exams that required physical contact came up he had always let his partner Dr. Boulson do them. _

"_How did you know?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. _

_"That you're a mutant?" she said, her voice a soft laugh, "Hank, just because I'm blind doesn't mean I don't know what's going on in the world."_

_Her arms reached out and entwined themselves around his neck. For a minute she stroked the fur and his heart stuttered. She knew now, she knew what he looked like. Even if she'd known he was a mutant she'd probably thought that he was one with a less visible mutation. Now she knew. However, no look of disgust came over her face. Carly just kept running her hands over his face and neck, something like a smile coming onto her lips. Hank's eyes widened. _

_"And you don't care?"_

_"Of course not," she said, brushing a kiss against his lips, "Not now, not __**ever**__."_

"I thought that after the wedding it would be easier. You deserve to have a wedding that won't have the media crawling all over it and dissecting it," he said, "I thought I could give you that."

"I'm a politician's fiancé," she said, "I knew what I was getting myself into."

He sighed. That wasn't true. He hadn't been a politician when she had met him; just another doctor with theories and fur. Carly had never signed up for this level of public exposure. Regretfully he let go of her wrist. She looked surprised as he moved away from her. Hank could feel her eyes on his back.

"Carly, this is…the thing's they'll say about you-"

"It doesn't matter," she said, coming up from behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, "It really doesn't matter."

Her head rested between his shoulder blades. Warmth exuded from her into his skin, dissolving some of the tension that had built up there since David had told him what happened. Carly had always had a sense of serenity cloaking her, one that he had envied since he had first laid eyes on her. So when she spoke again and a choked vulnerability surfaced he winced as though in pain.

"We'll get through this together, alright? Just…don't push me away."

_"Don't push her away."_

_"Alex, I'd appreciate it if you stop talking about this," Hank snarled, grabbing a book down from a bookcase. _

_"No," said Alex, "I know what she means to you. And after everything you've been through you're just going to leave her? She __**needs **__you right now. __**You **__need her."_

_Alex's voice became cold. _

_"You **never** leave someone when they need you."_

_Hank gripped the book tightly in his hand. He turned and saw Alex glaring defiantly, his hands in his pockets. Behind him a full-length mirror shined, reminding him of what he was._

_"Don't say that," said Hank. _

_"It's true. She cares for you."_

_"I won't allow her to be with me," snapped Hank, "It's too dangerous. Look what happened!"_

_Alex shrugged and Hank was filled with anger. Why didn't he understand?_

_"You shouldn't have left her. It's why I told her you're staying with me now," said Alex, "She's on her way."_

_Panic filled him and his eyes looked wildly around him. _

_"How could you __**do **__that?" cried Hank, "You know what kind of life she'd live! She deserves better than that!"_

_"I don't know a thing about what she does and doesn't deserve," Alex said, "She could be the worst person in the world for all I know. But I know she makes you happy. That makes her amazing in my eyes."_

_"How could you?" Hank repeated, his voice becoming demanding. _

_"Listen, Hank," said Alex, "You're one of my best friends. You were a groomsman at my wedding. You helped me control my powers even though I was an asshole. I'd die, kill, and lie for you. But I won't stand by while you throw away your own happiness because of misguided morals!"_

_His throat constricting Hank glared at the mirror. It mocked him with his reflection. His rage at Alex combined with his rage at the appearance he had given himself. Why couldn't he have left himself alone? With a wordless cry of fury he threw his book at the mirror. It shattered into several pieces, each one scattering across the floor. Alex jumped back and stared at him. _

_"Why did this have to happen to me?" Hank asked whatever power might be listening, "Everything just…why should I have to be forced to make this choice!"_

_Alex sighed and crossed his arms. _

_"It's not just your choice to make," said Alex quietly, "It's hers too."_

"I won't," he said, "I won't."

Sighing he leaned his head back into her touch. One of his hands reached back and felt her hand. Her skin felt warm and he could make out he the bump of the engagement ring he'd placed on her finger. Clawed hands hadn't been made to do such work, and there had been a period of awkward fumbling. Carly had just watched in wonder, tears building up in her eyes.

And now she was here for him; just like always. The night he'd been appointed secretary she'd waited at the house they shared. He'd been late though and she'd fallen asleep on the sofa. To his shame it was an event that was happening more and more frequently. When Mystique had shifted into her he'd felt the same fear he felt on a nearly daily basis; the fear of losing her.

He turned and took her in his arms.

"We'll figure this out," he said, "I…we're going to have to appear together…a press conference...I know that much…"

"I'm not afraid," Carly soothed, "And don't think about that tonight. Just relax for now. It'll look different in the morning."

"No, no it won't," sighed Hank, "But we'll figure it out."

Hank turned and took her in his arms.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too."

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Yeah, Hank smashed a mirror in 'Beauty and the Beast'. It was pretty unexpected when he did it, a very heart wrenching scene. Some of Hank and Carly's lines in the flashbacks are taken from that episode because those episodes had some pretty poignant lines. _


	21. Chapter 21

"And the two of you have been together for how long?"

Amanda watched the television along with several of the staff and students at Muir Island. Warren stood next to her, his manner still awkward after their recent argument. She didn't really want to be around him at the moment. Amanda was still angry about what he'd said to her. It wasn't something easily forgotten.

Kurt's rejection and coldness hadn't left her with much room to remain angry at her only other friend though. It still hurt, having only happened two days before. Even TJ had noticed how tense and sad she was when she'd visited earlier that day. Luna had looked at her with big eyes and hugged her. Under such strain she wished she could have gone to bed early and slept until sunlight would make the world look better.

However, history was happening again. She knew she should be present for it so she could tell her children about these events, like her parents had told her about the moon landing. Henry McCoy, former senator and current cabinet member, was on TV again. This time he wasn't alone though. A woman named Caroline Trilby sat next to him, one of her fingers lightly touching his. David Xavier was standing behind the two of them, his hands folded behind his back and looking stoic.

She wondered where Kurt was. Someone had told her that he had gone with David, but she didn't see him anywhere on the television. The absence of her closest friend and confidante hurt deeply. His absence from the TV made sense though since he didn't work for the secretary. He hadn't struck her as being particularly political though. Then again, he hadn't struck her as a lot of things that he apparently was.

"Five years," Henry said.

"And we haven't heard about this before because…?" asked a reporter suggestively.

"I enjoy my privacy," Henry said, raising an eyebrow, "We had hoped to be married before this story broke. It would have allowed the wedding to be a quieter affair. Unfortunately that no longer seems to be an option."

Another reporter stood.

"Some may say that the nature of your relationship is…unusual to say the least. Why are the two of you getting marri-"

"Excuse me?" asked Caroline.

Amanda turned her eyes towards the woman who, before that point, hadn't said anything at all. An inner fire was burning in her eyes. Something in Caroline's expression told Amanda that she was going to rip into briefly felt sorry for the reporter who had decided to start such a question. However, briefly was the key word.

"Why are we getting married? Well, that should be obvious. I love him and I want to be with him for the rest of my life. And unusual? Are you suggesting that there's something wrong with me marrying the man I love?" she asked, "Or are you just against sapien and superior marriage?"

The reporter flushed. Amanda could tell a loaded question when she heard one. Depending on which newspaper he worked for he could very well be fired if he answered wrong. He would also come under fire if he said yes; plastered as a bigot. If he said no then his question would be redundant. Wisely he sat down very slowly, cowed.

She watched the rest of the news report in awe of how calm the two of them were. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from becoming impassioned. When Warren had made his approach to her she had gotten angry, and that was nothing near as bad as what was happening there.

Yet, they seemed so calm and composed. If the couple had had any negative emotions about what happened then they had gotten rid of them before they entered the press conference. They were a unified front. She admired them for that, admired and envied them.

When it was over she stretched and headed to her room. Warren stopped her.

"Hey, Amanda," he said, "I know you're still mad at me…but you haven't been looking so good lately."

She heaved a sigh. Irritation choked her words.

"How about you run off and tell my family that I'm fine," she said, "I'm getting along, I eat three balanced meals, look both ways before crossing the street, floss, and make sure to wear clean clothes."

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said," he said miserably, "But right now you look like you've been through hell-"

Amanda shook her head and Warren's eyes softened.

"Look, I'm really sorry about what I said. It was wrong and I shouldn't have assumed-"

"Nothing happened," she said, "I just want to go to sleep, okay?"

Without giving him a chance to answer she walked past him. It was hard enough to deal with her hurt without having to answer stupid questions from him. Sighing again she walked down the corridor to her room. Amanda brushed her hair out and got changed for the night, pulling the covers over her head.

No sooner had she settled down then she heard a knock on the door. Angrily she flung her covers aside and jerked the door open.

"Warren, I told you I wanted to go to sleep!"

The words had burst past her lips before she even realized who her visitor was. Kurt stood staring at her, cringing away slightly. Amanda stared at him, suddenly aware of how her night gown was sleeveless and only went to her knees. She flushed before remembering her old hurt and the fact that it was** her** doorway he was standing in.

"Thought you were someone else," said Amanda, trying to keep her tone even, "What do **you** want?"

Kurt flinched, an action she watched with a bitter satisfaction.

"I… entschuldigung," he said, "I…zere ist a time difference betveen Vashington and here and I zhought…"

He licked his lips and looked down.

"I zhought it vas earlier," Kurt said.

"Okay," she said.

There was an awkward pause. Amanda felt her resolve weakening and she sighed.

"You don't have to stand in the hallway," she said, "You can come in you know."

Kurt blinked at her and she rolled her eyes.

"It's not the middle ages. You can come into a girl's room without anyone saying anything," said Amanda, "We both know it's not like that."

She wanted to say that they both knew it wouldn't **ever **be like that, but the words stuck in her throat. He'd obviously come to apologize and ask if they could still be friends. That would be alright. It wasn't what she wanted, and deep down she suspected it wasn't what he wanted either. However, if that was all he was going to let happen then she'd have to settle for it. For now anyway.

"I am sorry for ze vay zat I acted a few dayz ago," he said.

Just as she'd expected. Her lips started to form the appropriate words.

"It's okay it's…"

Her voice trailed off. Why should she have to lie? Why should she have to play the silly little heroine from the book who just accepted her lot?

"…no, you know what? It's not okay," Amanda said, putting her hand on her forehead and closing her eyes, "I don't know what it was to you then but you have to understand…I thought we… I thought you felt something for me too. That's all."

There was a silence and Amanda felt tears build in her eyes. She wasn't crying in front of him though. She felt ridiculous enough as it was.

"I do."

Her eyes opened.

"What?" she asked.

Kurt sighed miserably, his hand brushing against his rosary.

"I do feel for you," he confessed.

Amanda stared at him.

"Then why…why did you-?" she sputtered.

"Vhat…vhat I look like ist not, vell, **normal**," he said.

A thousand emotions rattled inside of her head and she struggled to answer.

"That doesn't matter to me," she said, "I thought you knew that."

"It matters to ozzer people," he said glumly.

"Who cares?" she demanded, "Who cares what they do or don't think?"

"It can be dangerous for people who…vith vhat I look like, how my life vas before I came here," Kurt said quietly, "I didn't vant you to get hurt."

She shook her head.

"You didn't want me to get hurt?" asked Amanda incredulously, "Kurt, I did get hurt. I got hurt like hell. So don't give me that excuse."

He winced and she wondered if she'd been too harsh. Still, it was too late now. Amanda threw her hands into the air.

"Why are you telling me this now?" asked Amanda, "Are you just trying to explain why you don't want to be around me?"

"Nein," Kurt said quickly, "I vas in Vashington and I met zis couple zat…vell, not met, but zey vere on ze news…"

"Wait, are you talking about Secretary McCoy and Caroline?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I saw zem," said Kurt, "and I started to qvestion myself…I had **been **qvestioning myself since zat night. But I vanted…"

Kurt took a deep breath and stopped. Amanda closed the distance between them and looked into his eyes. His golden eyes met hers and she swallowed.

"Kurt…you have to understand," she said, "I…I think I love you."

"You…you mean zat?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"Do you think I would just say it if I didn't feel it?" laughed Amanda weakly.

A tentative smile crossed his lips.

"I know what I'm feeling," Amanda said, "I don't just say that to people. I've never… I've never said that to a boy before."

She breathed in.

"Let me make this decision for myself," Amanda said, "Let me…let me decide what to risk. Because I've already decided that I want you. I'm not…I'm trying not to ask anything of you. I just want to know… what is it you want? Do you…what I feel, is it the same for you?"

The terrible silence descended again, pressing down on them. She waited, her gut clenching. His hands delicately cupped her face.

"Mein Gott…erstaunliche," he murmured to himself, "Danke, vielen dank."

She didn't know what that meant and wished that she did.

"Ja Amanda, ja," said Kurt.

Unlike its predecessors she knew what those words meant. Her head shot up in time to be caught in a kiss. Amanda's eyes closed and pushed herself closer. His sandpaper skin caught on hers and she felt that same electricity. As she pressed closer she could faintly feel the pressure of his fangs against her skin. Beneath her lips his moved tentatively against hers.

All too soon his lips separated from hers only to kiss the tear trails that, unbidden, wound down her face. His hands rested on her back and she couldn't help but feel the warmth that emanated from his skin. She rested her hands on his shoulders, clutching them tightly. Beneath her thumb she felt something strange.

Amanda frowned and slipped a hand under his shirt. Her fingers curiously traced the rough patch there. There were designs there like the ones on his face, she could feel that, but this was something else. A few moments passed before she realized that Kurt had frozen and his breathing had become uneven. Color rushed to her face and she pulled away, looking down in embarrassment.

One of his hands tilted her head back up so that his golden eyes bored into hers.

"Kurt, what, what was that?" she asked after a moment.

"Tattoos," he replied, still sounding slightly breathless, "Vone for efery sin. So quite a few engel."

His words seemed to be meant as a joke, but they sounded a little nervous. Amanda touched his chest.

"I don't think so," she said.

"Amanda…"

"Did something happen?"

"Nein," he said uncomfortably, "It's nozing."

"Can I see?"

Her words shocked Kurt and they shocked her as well. She put a hand to her mouth.

"I…"

Kurt ducked his face and she wondered if he was embarrassed about his markings. In the end he undid the buttons of his shirt. She gulped and felt her face burn again. What she'd asked might not have been such a good idea, but it was too late to turn back now. He let the shirt fall to the ground and she saw the markings for herself.

The swirls and whorls on his skin were similar to the ones on his face, only these were more detailed and poignant. Her hand reached out tentatively and traced one of them. She felt him shudder under her touch. Amanda was tempted to pull away, but she didn't. Another one of her hands traced a scar at his shoulder, what she had felt beneath his shirt.

The skin had healed in blotchy, thick patches. At one point she could imagine that the wound had been infected. There were smaller scratches too, almost like he'd tried to claw at whatever had happened to his shoulder.

"This isn't a tattoo," she said.

"Nein," said Kurt, shame crossing his face, "It vas a vound from…zere vas an incident…I…I meant it vhen I said my life had not been peaceful..."

He seemed increasingly uncomfortable and she realized she shouldn't have asked. Amanda saved him from having to answer with a quick kiss to his lips. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders. As she did so she felt something at the back of his neck. After seeing his reaction to the scar at his shoulder she decided not to ask. Later there would be time.

His lips parted slightly and she deepened the kiss, causing him to step back in surprise. He stumbled, tripping over the edge of her bed and falling into it. Amanda stumbled too but his tail shot out and caught her, wrapping itself around her waist. However, it jerked her a little too hard and brought her flush against him.

She blinked back in surprise and, from the look on Kurt's face, he hadn't expected it either. Kurt buried his face in one of his hands.

"Ach...ich kann nicht glauben dies..." Kurt mumbled.

"I'm sorry," she said, adjusting to the strange sensation of his tail around her waist.

"Zere is nozing for **you **to be sorry about engel," Kurt said, "It vas not **your **tail zat…zat…"

She glanced over at him. He looked thoroughly scandalized. Suddenly she burst into laughter. Kurt stared at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but this is just so…the look on your face… you know?"

"I do not."

She gave him an adoring look before twining her fingers in his dark hair.

"Maybe later you will," Amanda said, "But I'm in no hurry."

He cupped her face and kissed her gently on the forehead. Amanda breathed out and pulled the blankets over the two of them, guarding them against the coming chill of the night.

"I haf never been so close to anyvone before," he whispered.

"Me neither," she admitted.

One of Kurt's hands absently played with the strands of her hair that had spilled out around her.

"Du bist schön meine engel," he murmured.

Her head cocked to the side.

"What's that mean?" she asked.

"Learn German miene engel," he said playfully.

Rolling her eyes Amanda said;

"Well how about the last word? I heard it earlier…are you calling me angel?"

Kurt blushed slightly.

"Ja."

"Little early for pet names," she said, resting her head on his chest, "But you know what? I don't mind. Not at all. I'll have to find something to call you though."

His arms wrapped around her and he buried his head in her hair. She giggled as she began to drift off. In the morning, she knew, everything wouldn't be quite so perfect. Their being together would open up a host of problems; her stay there was only temporary after all and there was so much to consider. For now though it was just the two of them.


	22. Chapter 22

Outside the window fat flakes of snow fell gently. David gave the scene outside a cursory look.

"I spent most of my Christmases here," he said, putting the finishing touches on the package he was wrapping, "There's always been snow."

"Zere vas snow vere I vas too," said Kurt, "Not all ze time, but most of it."

David smiled. He was glad that he could still manage to get to Scotland for Christmas. It was becoming more difficult because of his job, especially with the current situation. He had only come in that morning, the very day before Christmas. Still, nothing was going to stop him from perpetuating his family's tradition.

Holidays were alwasy a little strange for him. When he was younger Thanksgiving had been spent with his uncles and aunt. At their houses he was introduced to the idea of a big family gathering, albeit without his father. Easter was the same. However, Christmas was different. Christmas was for him and his parents. Nothing had ever stood in the way of that, no matter how dire the situation.

David had always surmised that if his father, plagued by a million problems, could manage to be there every Christmas then so could he. So far he had been able to keep his promise for the two years since he officially left home. It was strengthening to know he could do that one simple thing; to be at Muir Island every Christmas.

He tilted his head to where Kurt was gently putting a silver bracelet in a box. It was a delicate piece of work with a few teardrop charms. David grinned.

"That for Amanda?"

Kurt blushed and snapped the box shut. His hands reached for the wrapping paper, his fingers trembling slightly. When he'd gotten back to Muir Island a few weeks ago Kurt had told him about his recent involvement with Amanda. Upon arriving to the Island he had been treated first hand to blushes whenever her name was mentioned and the adoring look that he gave her.

"Ja," he said, "I vanted to get her somezing pretty since I know zat she misses her family."

"Ticket problems?" asked David.

His cousin nodded.

"I think she had that last year too," David said.

"Ja, she did. I know it ist not right, but I vanted her to stay," confessed Kurt, "and it made me happy vhen she did. Selfish perhaps, but I am happy."

David rolled up the wrapping paper, his mind drifting to other, less savory students.

"Warren have any problems?" he asked dryly.

Kurt shook his head.

"I think that's for the best. But Amanda seems happy to be here with you," David said, "I know TJ's very happy about the two of you being together."

"I zink she planned it," said Kurt.

"Perhaps, she is devious. It wouldn't suprise me if she tried to play matchmaker," David said, getting up and picking up the package he'd been wrapping, "In any case we'd best finish up here. We're expected."

"Vone moment," said Kurt, "Verdammt, zis tape ist sticky."

David looked at where the tape was mummifying his cousin's fingers. He laughed before concentrating and having the tape untangle from his hands. Kurt cast him a grateful look before he finished wrapping Amanda's present. Confidently he got to his feet, his tail swishing happily behind him.

They walked together into what had once been the Great Hall of Muir Castle. In the past years it had been turned into more of a lobby. A large Christmas tree had been pushed in. From what David had heard from Kurt they had managed to find it in Lincross after heated debate. Alex had wanted a small fat one and Sean had insisted on a tall skinny one. In the end they had found something in between the two extremes.

Either way the tree was resplendent; decorated with several strings of lights and colorful ornaments. The younger children and the permanent residents had made paper chains and popcorn strings. TJ was finishing putting a paper chain, crawling along the wall to make sure that it went all the way around. Her tail held the excess and one of her hands adjusted it. She grinned at Kurt, showing her fangs, before continuing her work.

Amanda stood under her, looking poised to catch her if anything went wrong. Kurt's eyes lit up as he rushed to her side, putting the box quickly under the tree. She smiled back at him as he wrapped one arm around her waist tenderly. From her perch on the wall TJ laughed, obviously pleased that her King and Queen were so happy together.

Lounging on one of the couches Lorna held Luna. The small girl had fallen asleep in her arms, sucking on her thumb. Alex sat beside her, watching as their sons bickered over which present they were going to open first the next morning at home. Lorna put one hand on Alex's arm as David watched. Alex inclined his head to her and gave her something that looked like a wink.

Terry had returned for the holidays, her retainer gone and fears of braces safely banished. Her mother was talking to her while her father stepped into the side room where cider was being brewed. Sean was a better cook than Maeve, at least from what David had experienced when he was at their house. Thanksgivings had always been a giveaway.

They were familiar scenes from his childhood, albeit with a few changes. Kurt had come and, no matter how much he wished he had been there when David was younger, he knew he hadn't. However, he took what he could get. Kurt was a more than welcome addition to his catalogue of memories.

They were memories that made him feel warm inside; family and friends. No matter what happened in the outside world Muir Island stayed perfect, a beautiful refuge. It was the safest place he knew, the place his father had taken him when he was eight, the place where he'd slowly recovered. Muir Island was also where he'd spent his more innocent childhood days and his struggling teen years.

One of his hands rested on the wall of the castle, the cold stone against his hand.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

David smiled and looked behind him. His parents were coming down the hallway, his father pushed by his mother. They were the only thing needed to complete the scene.

"Very much so," he said, "Sorry I got here so late, and then I needed to do the wrapping and Kurt came-"

"Don't worry about it," his mother interrupted, "You're here now, and that's the important thing."

Smiling again David shoved his hands in his pockets and braced himself against the wall with his leg.

"I'm my father's son," he said, "I'm never late."

"Except for dental appointments," his father said.

David laughed.

"They had sharp implements next to my face! What would you expect a child to do?" he asked, "Besides, Uncle Alex told me how to handle people who do that."

"I hope he didn't mean for you to use your combat skills against your dentist," his father said, "We're lucky that didn't happen."

"Knowing Alex he probably did," Moira said, "I just hope you know better than to do that now."

"You haven't talked to my dentist in Washington then," joked David.

Charles tilted his head and glanced at his watch.

"How much longer?" he asked.

"They should be here in an hour," David said, "And then we'll give it another two hours. I'd say it should happen somewhere around one in the morning. I've made sure that everyone who should be there knows."

"I'll tell you something," Moira said, "The press is never going to get over this."

"The image of them dropping their jaws gets me to bed at night," smiled David, "Besides, they deserve this."

Moira nodded and they looked at the small party in front of the tree. A few of the other permanent residents came down the stairs. It was something else he'd remembered, an old tradition at Muir Island. That night they were going to introduce a completely new tradition. David grinned privately to himself.

* * *

><p>With one hand resting on her husband's shoulder Moira looked ahead, her attention glued to the front of the castle's old chapel annex.<p>

"Henry Philip McCoy and Caroline Trisha Trilby, the covenant which you are about to make meant to be a sacred expression of your love for each other," the Reverend that they had commissioned only hours earlier said, "As you pledge your vows and commit your lives to each other, we ask that you do so in all seriousness, and yet with a deep sense of joy; with the deep conviction that you are committing yourselves to a growing relationship of trust, mutual support, and love."

Carly stood, holding the bouquet of white roses they had prepared for her. Her father had come with her, standing in the front as his only child quietly married the man she loved. The ceremony had been Hank's idea. He'd wanted Carly to have what she always wanted; a small ceremony and calm marriage that was free of the media circus that would come with the recent announcement of their relationship and Hank's position.

Glancing behind her she saw that Sean and Alex stood next to Hank, acting as groomsmen. Each of them had been groomsmen at each other's wedding. When Sean had married Maeve Alex and Hank had been at his side. At Alex's wedding to Lorna Hank and Sean had been there also. Now it was there turn to stand in support of their friend, and they had risen to the task.

To Carly's side stood Lorna, wearing a simple blue gown and standing to offer support. The two of them barely knew each other but Lorna had helped lace her into her floor-length wedding gown. Tom, Will, and Luna were in attendance also, watched by Maeve along with Terry. She had help from Kurt keeping them in line, but the late hour and the solemnity of the situation had the children staring dumbstruck.

David stood a little to the right of Kurt, a look of deep satisfaction on his face. He'd pulled it off. He'd made sure that no one would expect that Hank and Carly were coming to Muir Island to be married in the early minutes of Christmas. He'd smuggled the wedding dress through cusotms and found a Reverend who could keep his mouth shut. She doubted he'd even had to use telepathy. Hank had been his mentor, uncle, and employer. He had done his job perfectly and then some.

"Henry, do you understand and accept this responsibility," the Reverend intoned, "and do you promise to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy, and happy marriage?"

Hank smiled at Carly.

"I do."

"Caroline, do you understand and accept this responsibility," said the Reverend, turning to her, "and do you promise to do your very best each day to create a loving, healthy, and happy marriage?"

Moira was pleased that there was no hesitation in Carly's answer.

"I do."

Alex passed the rings onto the Reverend.

"The wedding ring is a symbol of eternity. It is an outward sign of an inward and spiritual bond which unites two hearts in endless love," said the Reverend, "And now as a token of your love and of your deep desire to be forever united in heart and soul, you Henry, may place a ring on the finger of your bride."

There was a strange fumbling as Hank, his claws getting in his way, put the ring on Carly's finger.

"Carly, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you."

He smiled apologetically at Carly but the look in her eyes showed that there was nothing to apologize for.

"By the same token Caroline, you may place a ring on the finger of your groom."

"Hank," Carly said, "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and faithfulness to you."

Hank's ring was slightly bigger, tailored because of his physiology. Two of Carly's fingers could have fit in it. Moira's mind went back to her own ceremony, one that had happened on a sunny day in New York so many years ago. There had been accommodations made for the groom then too, and it had also been a quiet affair.

She hadn't seen back then the trials that her marriage would have brought. She hadn't seen that she would find, on her twenty-third anniversary to her husband, that twenty of those years had been spent living apart from him. Moira wondered sometimes that, if she'd known that events would take that turn, she would have married the man beside her.

Each time she had known that she would. Moira had never been one to take the as way out, especially when it was about something she cared about as much as her husband. Although their lives had been treacherous they had made it. She hoped, looking at the wedding of the last of his first class that such tribulations would not be in store for the new couple. However, she hoped that if they were, they too would have the strength to endure.

"For as much as Henry and Caroline have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and these witnesses, and thereto have pledged their faithfulness each to the other, and have pledged the same by the giving and receiving each of a ring," the Reverend said, "by the authority invested in me as a minister of the gospel according to the laws of the country of Scotland, I pronounce that they are husband and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

His next words, such a normal pronouncement, were poignant due to unique circumstances that they'd been placed in. Moira had known it when they had been said at her wedding, at Sean's, and at Lorna's and Alex's. It didn't make their weight any less even as the world changed.

"Those that God has joined together, let no man put asunder."

The Reverend closed his book.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Hank leaned in and let his lips lightly brush against Carly's. The separated and she smiled at him, taking his hand.

"May I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Henry Philip McCoy." 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Cute eh? Next chapter we move into X3. That's when it hits the fan. _


	23. Chapter 23

It was driving Scott mad. At night he would hear her voice, whispering to him as though she were right next to him. Sometimes it was faint and sometimes it was a shout. Reality became a blur to him. He couldn't even remember what he had eaten for breakfast that day, couldn't remember going down and getting anything. Maybe he hadn't eaten anything at all.

He knew he was losing it, was skipping out on more and more of the classes he was supposed to be teaching. At first he had thrown himself back into his work wholeheartedly, but that drive had dwindled down to nothing. He hadn't shaved in days and his room lay in disarray. The blinds were drawn, blocking all light from the outside.

He hadn't been responding to his brother's calls either. To his shame Alex had started to call Ororo in order to find out if Scott was fine. Scott knew his brother shouldn't have to resort to such means. Not only that, but he knew the kind of reports he must be getting now. If Scott hadn't told Ororo to stop it he knew Alex would have caught a flight to Westchester already. As it was he had a feeling he was considering it after he refused his invitation to come for Christmas.

Deep down Scott knew he should have answered the phone calls. He should have gone to Muir Island for Christmas instead of spending it locked in his room. However, he had a hard time talking about the way he felt. How could he explain to a man happily married with three children what he was going through? How could he articulate his feelings any more than he already had? What good would it do? No one could answer that question for him and he had given up on trying. What was the point of it all?

His brother wasn't the only one worrying about him though. Scott could see the looks Ororo and the Professor gave him. His students walked on eggshells around him, his own students! He could even see the sympathy in Logan's eyes, damn him. He didn't want their pity. How could none of them understand that? How could none of them see that he wanted to try and forget it and that their pity wasn't helping?

Scott had talked about the subject one million different times to one million different people in one million different ways. It didn't help. No one seemed to understand that. They all wanted him to talk and he just wanted to be treated as though nothing was wrong. If they did that then maybe he could forget it, get past it.

Somehow he needed to get away from it, from everything. In his past when he'd needed to do that the answer had come in the form of a hellish cross-country road trip to sanctuary. He looked at the keys that he kept on his side table to his motorcycle. With Jean's voice in his head and his already damaged record of attendance he felt like he had nothing to lose.

He didn't know what he was going to find if he left, but he knew it would be better than doing nothing. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder he pushed open the door and went into the hallway. Much to his disgust Logan stopped him, looking somewhere between irritated and concerned. Wonderful. More **worry**.

"Hey, Scott," Logan said, "we were looking for you downstairs and you didn't show.

Scott snorted.

"What do you care?"

"Well for starters, I had to cover your ass," he snapped.

More worry, more concern, more favors. It was a good thing he was leaving.

"I didn't ask you to."

"No, you didn't," Logan said, still looking irritated, "The Professor did. I was just passing through."

Although he knew Logan couldn't see it he rolled his eyes.

"So pass through, Logan."

He turned to go down the hall, but Logan grabbed his arm.

"Hey, look. I know how you feel," he said.

No he didn't.

"Don't," snapped Scott

"When Jean died-"

"I said don't!"

Logan sighed and let go.

"Maybe it's time for us to move on."

Shaking his head Scott started to walk away and this time Logan didn't stop him. Not slowing his pace he looked over his shoulder and said;

"Not everybody heals as fast as you Logan."

Without waiting for a response he continued on. He was going to Alkali Lake and nothing was going to stop him.

* * *

><p>"And I think the improvements will really make it work," said Doug eagerly, "See, I think we just need to add a few more stabilizers here."<p>

He circled an area of the blue print in pen. The blue print for Cerebro Mark II was on top of many for much smaller pieces than Moira could process if she spent a year at it. It was why someone like Doug had been put in charge of it in the first place. He could keep a coherent conversation about it while walking.

"Alright," Moira said, "But you understand that we've been trying to get this project off the ground for years. Even Hank said it was too much techno babble and the cost-"

"Leave it to me," Doug said confidently, "I'm the master of techno babble. And as for cost, you know how good I am at cutting that. I made Warlock after all, and that was cheap **and **impenetrable."

Moira smiled but she didn't share his confidence. In her experience nothing was ever impenetrable. It was one of the reasons why no one had tried to transfer a mind into a comatose patient like she had discussed with her husband's class through videotapes. Too many telepaths were needed, at least two, which could make things messy very fast. David had explained it to her once.

"The mind is complex," he'd said, "And the body is wired to a mind. The body will adapt to fit the mind. If the mind changes then we might actually have a shapeshifting effect."

"Is that a good thing?" she'd asked.

"Yes," said David, "The person would look like the last station of the mind. I'm just saying it could have far-reaching consequences."

Moira thought better of explaining her feelings on that subject to Doug though.

"And I think that a lot of those problems were due to improper energy feed," he continued, drawing some arrows on the blue print, "I think if we had a big enough power source we could really amp up Cerebro Mark II."

"Why would we want to?"

"Well, we could have more than one telepath on it, get more readings that way," said Doug, "In fact, I have plans for that. It's gonna be great."

He pulled out another blue print proudly. Moira saw that he had headsets for ten users. She sighed.

"I admire your enthusiasm, but I don't think there are ten telepaths on the planet that have the skill necessary to work Cerebro."

"That's the thing!" he said, "I figured it out; you'd only have to have one really powerful one. The rest can sort of piggyback on the power since all the minds would be connected. Sort of like an inception."

"That's dreams, isn't it?"

"No…yes…okay, think of it like a Russian stacking doll," he said, "See, the telepath's mind would be the outer layer and all of the rest would be inside. I don't even think you'd need for them all to be telepaths, just one. Maybe they wouldn't even all have to be mutants!"

She shook her head uncomfortably.

"This sounds dangerous," she said, "David said that putting people in other people's minds is really risky. And Charles...he explained to me why it wasn't such a good idea to allow humans to use Cerebro."

"It'll be perfectly safe," argued Doug, "And I could do it. I could put on the proper protections to make it work!"

"I'm still not sure-"

_Sweetheart…_

She stopped in mid-step. She knew her husband's voice in her head well enough to know when it was concerned.

_What's wrong? _she asked.

_Turn…turn on the TV. _

Moira blinked and furrowed her brow.

_What?_

_CNN. I never…_Charles thought, _David and Hank tried to stall the announcement…David was still working on it when Hank came and told us, but it's come. _

Frowning Moira walked into the next room. She turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels.

"Um, Moira," said Doug, following her and looking a little annoyed, "Like I was saying, I'm sure that I could put the proper protections on it."

Ignoring him Moira found CNN.

"-Worthington Industries has announced that they have found a cure for the mutant strain."

Her strength left her. Limply Moira fell onto the couch, her mouth open and her eyes wide. The papers slipped out of Doug's hands and scattered on the floor.

"The Cure, as it is marketed, will be distributed in free clinics around the United States," the anchor continued, "And soon The Cure will be shipped to Europe."

Dimly she registered Kurt coming in, TJ in his arms. He stared at the TV. While the anchor was no longer explaining what had happened, the taglines were clearly readable.

"Now, we're switching over to our correspondent who knows more about how The Cure works and what it does," said the anchor, "Over to you."

The screen switched and showed a man standing at Alcatraz. A man in a business suit stood by him, looking confident and smug.

"Thanks, I'm here with Warren Worthington II," he said, "Who has announced his groundbreaking discovery today. Could you explain a bit more about the new drug?"

"Well, The Cure is a liquid compound that should be administered through a needle into the bloodstream. It will effectively neutralize the mutant gene in DNA," said Worthington, "As I said earlier in my speech, mutants are just like us with a peculiar quirk in their DNA. The Cure will effectively repress it and allow them to lead normal lives."

Moira's fingernails dug into her palms. Normal lives? Who did he think he was? Who gave him the right to decide what was **normal**?

"Am I sick?"

The question came suddenly and out of nowhere. Moira turned her head fractionally to TJ. The little girl pointed to the TV.

"Am I sick?" she repeated, "Is that why they made a cure? Do I need one?"

"Little vone-" started Kurt.

"No!" Moira said, getting to her feet, "No!"

Kurt's golden eyes met hers in surprise. Her hands were trembling, an overpowering urge to smash the TV coming over her.

"You're not sick TJ," Moira said, "You're not sick."

TJ cocked her head.

"That's a relief," she said.

Helplessly Moira looked at the TV. Anger was coming to blot out her shock. The anger she could handle. Picking up the remote she switched off the TV.

"We're not having it here," she said, flinging the remote onto a chair, "We're not having it here."

She turned to Doug.

"I expect you to let everyone know that if anyone asks you because we're a hospital," Moira said, "But I'm not allowing it here. They can inject that poison in themselves if they want, but **they won't do it here**."

Turning on her heel she hurried into the hall, her hand covering her eyes. Moira couldn't afford to be near any of the residents of the facility at the moment. She didn't want them to see what she was feeling. She didn't want to let them see another outburst like she'd had in front of the TV.

Getting into her room she locked the door behind her.

_So you know_, Charles thought.

_I know,_ she thought, _How could they? Of all the real diseases they could be curing they decide to hurt us instead._

Her husband's answer came after a pause and she could have sworn that he was sighing.

_You had Worthington's son in the exchange program, _Charles thought, _David talked to me…his son's a mutant. _

_ He'd 'cure' his own son? _demanded Moira.

_Not everyone sees mutations the way you do sweetheart, _sighed Charles, _I don't know how many years he's set us back with this. _

_ Not just set us back. It's like he's trying to destroy your life's work, _Moira thought bitterly, _All your life you've been trying to tell people to accept who they are, now they know that with one little injection they can take the easy way out. All they need to do is sell their soul. _

There was a long pause.

_**My**__ life's work?_

_ It's always been yours Charles, _Moira thought, _Always yours. Anything that's happened after that, anything I've done…it's been because of your dream, your vision. _

A feeling of tenderness filled her and she felt like crying. Her knees raised under her chin and she wrapped her arms around them.

_You've been part of that vision. _

_I know Charles, I know, _thought Moira, _Now…what now though?_

_Most ostensibly it will go like a wild fire through the school, _he thought, _I've already had at least one student run through the halls, excited out of her mind. _

A lump formed in Moira's throat. She couldn't imagine how hard that must have been for Charles to watch.

_And you know there's more._ _Erik has been silent lately but this will bring him out of hiding. He'll try to destroy it, use it to rally more to his cause. _

Moira rested her head on the flat of her hand. It seemed like they had had so little time since the last incident. First the debacle with Carly and now this. It made her ache.

_And…they captured Raven stealing the plans for the cure. She's in a Federal transport. _

The anguish in his thought made Moira sit up.

_Oh Charles. _

_I know, I know. He'll break her out with this newest upset soon though, _he thought tiredly, _Far too early for me to negotiate a visit, even with Hank on my side. _

She swallowed. Over the years Mystique had been in prison three times. Each time Charles had tried to see her, and each time she had broken out too soon. Privately Moira wondered if she was somehow doing it on purpose. Now that they had seen Kurt she knew he must be desperate to see her, to ask her something. Once again there wouldn't be any time.

_It's a small thing in the grand scheme of things, _Charles thought, _Erik always said that a war was coming. I think that this time he may succeed in starting one. _

_Don't worry, it'll be alright, _she thought, _This is…bad, but we've had bad before. We'll weather it out, just like the Mutant Registration Act. We'll be fine. _

His reply was like a sigh, tired and despondent.

_I wish I could share your optimism sweetheart. I truly do. _


	24. Chapter 24

The worst thing about The Cure was, in Hank's eyes, that it made him want something he thought he'd given up a long time ago. When he'd tried to cure himself he thought that he had learned a valuable lesson at a high cost. With his head held high he'd gone through life, pushing past his uncertainty with the help of his friends to marry the woman he loved and achieve a high position of government.

When he'd first approached Jimmy, or Leech as he was codenamed, he should have known that it was a bad idea. Instead he'd gone ahead and done it anyway. He'd felt the fur disappear from his hand, making it smooth and undeniably human. Hank had just stared at it, knowing it was still his hand but feeling somehow disconnected from it. Once again he felt like he had when he was a teenager; standing still and helplessly wanting something he couldn't have.

For a few seconds his mind had swirled with the endless possibilities. He would be able to touch Carly without his fur getting in the way. For the first time he might be able to know what her skin felt like, to kiss her without worrying about his fangs cutting her lips. He could go out in public without any strange glances. He wouldn't have to make special pens that his claws could manipulate. For the first time in his life he could feel normal.

For those seconds his mind worked like it was drunk with the idea of knowing what skin felt like again. Then a voice, one from his distant past, whispered to him;

_Mutant and Proud. _

He'd withdrawn his hand. No, he couldn't do that. Mystique might be his enemy and he might hate her for leaving but she had taught him one thing. This was who he was. You couldn't change who you were, deep down. Taking the easy way out wouldn't get you anything. For some reason or another this was the hand he had been dealt. He had to play it as best he could.

That moment of clarity showed him what he needed to do. He thanked Jimmy then, thanked him for clearing his vision. His blinders were off. Hank knew what he needed to do, had it in his mind as he walked back to the chopper. No matter what he was going to fight this because it was wrong. He kenw it in his bones.

David sat in the helicopter, waiting for him. He noticed that the young man was gripping a folder tightly, his knuckles turning white. Despite his own feelings Hank couldn't help but feel sorry for him. David had lived his whole life with the expectation that things were going to change. He had tasted what he thought was the beginning of a permanent, lasting state of coexistence between humans and mutants. This was his first disappointment. For the first time he was shown that Mutant Rights ebbed and flowed with the tide, that things given could be easily taken away.

Hank had experienced it ever since he was a teen, watching his world go through stages. Although The Cure was a greater threat than any of that he couldn't say the sudden shift surprised him. Someone as young and impressionable as David didn't have any defenses against what he must have seen as an affront to not only mutantkind, but his father and mother's work.

"How was it in there?" said David, his voice tense.

"Youthanizing," Hank said dryly, "And you were right, they were using a mutant."

"He's their original source for The Cure?" asked David.

"Yes."

"Can we get them on that?" David asked hopefully.

"No. They're in compliance with all of our standards," said Hank, "We have to fight this David, I'm just not sure how. They knew they'd meet opposition and they've planned for it and planned well."

David nodded and stared out the window at the San Francisco skyline.

"Damn Worthington. Why did he have to interfere?" he said, "Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?"

"He thinks he's helping."

"We don't need his help."

"We don't. But I don't think he can see that," agreed Hank, "Worthington is blinded. You told me about his son and I wonder if this is his idea of a gift to him."

"Don't even talk to me about Warren. I hope he gets hepatitis from the needle injection," David said, "He'll be first in line to get it, I know that much."

Venom and defeat laced David's tone. Hank sighed.

"Sometimes people surprise you," he said.

David snorted.

"Listen, I know what you're thinking. But this isn't the end," Hank said, "I can assure you that. I've been in so many situations where it felt like it was our last efforts to save ourselves, like we struggling, all of us dangerously close to the precipice. Do you remember the Registration Act?"

Next to him David shook his head.

"That wasn't the same."

"Why not?'

"That wasn't preceded by a period of peace," David said, "It was preceded by a period of inactivity. They just gave us a department! This is contradictory, like we've taken a step forward but somehow managed to leap backwards."

Although Hank agreed with him he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"You're right, they're not exactly the same. But that seemed like the brink then," Hank said, "I can assure you, this isn't the end."

Straightening his shoulders David swallowed.

"I'll have to take your word on that." 

* * *

><p>Megan knew something was wrong as soon as she walked into the room. Emma was sitting on the couch, her white silk nightgown pooling on the floor and a full champagne glass in her hand. Her eyes were staring listlessly ahead. Next to her was an empty bottle of champagne and a second one that was halfway gone. Her eyes were red rimmed like she had been crying. Anyone who heard that the White Queen had shed tears would have scoffed at her.<p>

She knew Emma was capable of crying though. When she was little she had seen Emma cry once. She still shuddered when she thought of that day. Megan had been playing in her room when Emma had called her downstairs using her telepathy. She had skipped into the room only to find Emma seated across from Regan.

Megan had stopped in mid-step, holding her doll Magik close to her.

"Your sister's back in favor with the Hellfire Club," Emma said, her voice distant and cold, "She would like to know if you would like go with her, or stay with me. I'll support whatever decision you make."

Regan had given her a look and she had felt fear for the first time in years. Emma was intimidating certainly, but Megan wasn't afraid of her. She loved her for rescuing her, teaching her, and she was sure that Emma cared about her. The look Regan gave her was a demand; she had to come with her. There would be no questions.

At the time Megan hadn't understood Regan would come for her. She had never liked Megan, had hit and called her names along with Martinique and their father. Years later Megan would understand why Regan had bothered. It was humiliating to have a family member under the care of another member of the Hellfire Club because another member had deemed it so.

Besides, Megan was becoming more powerful. Regan had somehow found out that Megan was shaping up to be quite the soldier for a nine-year-old. While she hadn't started teleporting yet Regan saw that she could be an asset. As soon as Regan found out that her little pixie sister could somehow profit her she'd wanted her back.

However, under Regan's harsh gaze Megan mustered up the courage to say;

"I'd like to stay with Emma."

Regan's eyes narrowed further and she got up. Emma rose too, placing one arm on Regan's shoulder. Anyone might have taken it for a friendly gesture, but looking back Megan could tell that it was a warning. Emma's hand could become diamond at any time and crush her sister's shoulder. Regan was aware of this and left quietly.

Later that night Megan had been awoken by a gag around her mouth and strong hands lifting her up. Regan had carried the struggling child downstairs. Megan had been frightened then. There was no doubt in her mind that, once they were away, Regan would hurt her. She was scared and she wanted Emma so badly that she began crying. Her tears were silenced by the gag and, for her trouble, she received a smack from Regan.

With her hand so close to her mouth Megan had bitten her. Regan had jerked back and dropped her. She tried to crawl away but Regan kicked her near her stomach. The kick was powerful and, because she was such a small child, had broken a rib. Another kick had caused a few more cracking noises and sharp jolts of pain. The gag had stifled her cries of pain but the attacks had incapacitated her. As Regan approached again Megan started thinking about Emma again, praying wordless prayers, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Get away from her **NOW!**"

Megan opened an eye to see Emma coming down the stairs, her eyes ablaze. Regan froze in place, her foot just about to touch Megan's chest. Emma allowed one fist to turn to diamond before she punched Regan in the face. Regan was sent flying backward, her jaw in pieces and bloody. Emma glared at her and hauled her to her feet. Her hand wrapped around Regan's and there was a crushing sound as she destroyed Regan's hand.

A diamond foot crunched into Regan's. Her eyes still blazing Emma said;

"You're the Black Rook. I can't kill you, unfortunately. But I can hurt you, I can hurt you so bad. Your mind is mine now; you'll never be able to coordinate an attack on us ever again. I'm taking that ability away from you now."

Her fingers snapped before she leaned in nastily.

"Now walk back to your home on that foot," Emma hissed, "When you're there wait an hour before you call an ambulance. Then, and **only then**, will you be able to scream. And if you ever, ever come near Megan again, even if it's just to look at her, politics or not I will **destroy **you. And that is much worse than just killing you; trust me."

Letting Regan go her sister shuffled off, barely managing to walk on her ruined foot. When she left the room Emma rushed to Megan's side, untying her and gently turning her over.

"Oh God Megan, oh God," she said.

Gently Emma had lifted her, closing her eyes in a mental call for her own private team of doctors. They had come quickly and given Megan things that had taken away the pain. However, when they were still scurrying around her she had held her tears back. They didn't have permission to see her cry after all.

She heard them mutter about what an unnatural child she was. One of them said;

"What can you expect from the White Princess?"

It had been the first time Megan had heard the title. It made her proud, had given her the strength not to fall apart during the next few hours. Later Emma had visited her, shooing all of the doctors away. She had leaned down and kissed Megan on the forehead.

"I'm so sorry Megan," she said, "I was supposed to keep you safe. This will never happen again, I swear."

She had seen the tears in her eyes then. Megan had known then that she was sincere. All her life she'd received insincere apologies, sarcastic and biting. Now she was given a genuine one. Megan had started to cry then, reaching her undamaged arm in an attempt to hug Emma. Emma had seemed surprised but had gingerly reciprocated the gesture.

After that Megan couldn't help but see Emma as her real family, the one who had been hidden from her all those years she'd been with her father and sisters. To see Emma looking defeated like she was hurt Megan. She never wanted the woman who protected her to be hurt. Although the situation was new Megan knew that it was because of The Cure.

Emma might pretend not to care about mutant rights, but there was a speck of her that did. It was why Stryker had found his facilities being shut down one by one, why he had less and less support from the government. Megan dimly remembered that she had nearly gotten Stryker court marshaled for a murder, that she had disbanded Weapon X by the use of bribes and mind tricks. She cared, not in the way that most people might, but she did.

Megan walked up and put her hand on Emma's shoulder. Emma glanced at her briefly.

"Once upon a time I was with a man who wanted to destroy all humans," she said, blandly, "He was an asshole but he had some good ideas. Exterminate them all before they exterminate us and all that."

She gave a bitter laugh.

"It's coming Megan, I can feel it in my bones," Emma said, "You know, I told you not to make things personal, that it only destroys things. I told you that right?"

Megan nodded.

"It's true. It's why I followed that asshole in the first place," she said, "But it's someone saying that **you're not good enough**, trying to cut you to fit their idea of normal when you're special. And not in that 'unique snowflake shit' kind of way. I had enough of that from my bastard father."

Emma picked up her glass and downed some more champagne.

"I have half a mind to buy up all of Worthington's business holdings and shut it down," she said, "But it would attract too much attention. Damn him."

Focusing her eyes she turned to look at Megan.

"You're a beautiful girl Megan," said Emma, "Your eyes are luminous, your hair is shiny, your ears are nicely formed, and your wings glitter. There's nothing wrong with you. Don't let anyone tell you different."

"The last person who said I was wrong to my face was my father," Megan said quietly, "And I don't give a damn about one thing he said. He knew nothing."

Emma patted her hand.

"That's my girl."

She sighed and then suddenly went rigid. Her hand turned to diamond and she smashed the glass. The sudden motion made Megan jump as champagne spilt over Emma's gown. Emma looked down at it before rolling her eyes, brushing the glass off her dress and letting it fall to the floor irritably.

"I **hate **white," she muttered.

"What happened?" asked Megan.

"Psychic shock," frowned Emma, "Somewhere around Alkali Lake in Canada. That's what it felt like. Interesting…"

She paused before getting up. Although neither she nor Megan knew it, in Westchester New York Charles Xavier was sending his X-men to the same spot.

"Feel up for a road trip Megan?" she asked.


	25. Chapter 25

"You're talkin' about a person's mind here, about Jean!" Logan said angrily.

Charles felt a throbbing in his head. After everything that had happened he wanted to tell Logan to go away, to stay out of things he didn't understand. He wanted to tell him that he suspected Scott was dead, that he had failed him. Charles would later have the burden of telling Alex his suspicions as penance, something that he dreaded.

Whether or not Logan realized it The Cure was going to change everything. Charles wanted to make sure that he understood. He wanted to tell him that he felt like the world was dangerously teetering between chaos and stability. The wrong nudge could tip it over and he felt that Jean was that nudge.

Charles wanted to tell Logan that hard choices had to be made, and at the moment his choice, if he wanted to save Jean, was to set up the mental blocks or kill her. He couldn't let it come to that; she had been his student and he protected his students. Already he had failed Scott; he wouldn't fail Jean too. He wished he could make Logan understand that.

Instead he said;

"She has to be controlled."

"Control? You know, sometimes when you cage the beast, the beast gets angry."

Did Logan think that Charles didn't know that? A muscle in his jaw twitched. How could he make him see? For years he'd been trying to make people see but he felt like he was failing abysmally time after time. Rallying his strength he tried one last time, the pressure of the last few days weighing down on him.

"I had a choice to make," he said, "I chose the lesser of two evils."

"Sounds like Jean didn't have a choice at all," Logan grunted.

He wanted to bang his head against the wall. Nothing was going right and once more he felt responsible. He hadn't caused this burden but he would have to carry it anyway. Why couldn't Logan try to understand? Did he think this was easy for him? Did he think that it had ever been easy for him?

When he'd sealed away Jean's powers it had come on the heels of watching his eight-year-old son scream and try to bash his head in while restrained by his mother. Charles had immediately dived into his son's mind, not quite knowing what was wrong but determined to help. Flames had spurted all around him, consuming everything. Screams echoed there. Charles had never seen a mind in such a state, let alone David's.

He'd made his way to him though, frantically calling out his name. Finally David had responded in a mixture between a scream and a sob. Charles had found him being clawed at by other minds, each trying to assert control. He'd realized what had happened and charged in. He had fought them off and taken his son into his arms, trying to keep him away from the other minds and the harm they wanted to inflict.

The flames had died down then, but not enough. He realized then that he couldn't get the other minds out, not without doing permanent damage to his son's mind and health. Still holding David he had concocted the idea of psychic barriers to cage the other personalities. It would work as long as it was self-sustaining.

So he'd searched for the strength, hoping that his own powers would be enough to directly protect another psychic's mind in a lasting way. They weren't. He realized that he would have to seal away parts of David's own powers to keep the cages in full strength. He'd have to make a choice, and fast. They were establishing themselves quickly.

Feeling horrible he'd delved deeper into his son's power sources and seen things he'd never expected. Charles had always been struck by the fact that David had manifested his powers as a baby. Only then did he realize it was because those weren't his only powers. Deep within him he saw that in a few years pyro kinesis, teleportation, super speed, flight, X-ray vision, heat absorption, super strength, matter animation and sonic screams would make themselves known. It might have already been preparing to be revealed.

All of those powers would have to be sacrificed if his son was to live as anything other than a raving lunatic in the thralls of terrorists. They would be the only things strong enough to hold all of them off. He'd sobbed then because he'd realized he was hobbling his own son because of something that was **his **fault. David would never even be able to have a choice in the matter; his own son was panicking too much to hold a coherent conversation.

So Charles had cannibalized his son's powers and blocked off the terrorists. When David had turned fourteen he'd taken him aside and, with the burden of six years of guilt on him, had explained what he'd done to his son. David had listened, something between hurt and acceptance showing on his face. Upon finishing David had said, his voice quiet;

"You didn't have a choice. It…it's alright. I'd rather be sane than powerful."

His words had never fully alleviated his guilt. The fact that he had had to do the same thing with Jean's powers afterwards was like reliving a nightmare. Now he was being openly criticized for something that he'd struggled to do, had left him feeling wrong. It was like being Stryker and he recognized it as such even at the time it was happening.

When he'd first explained what he'd done to David and Jean to Moira it had felt like a confession. She had had to hold him those first nights, physically the first and mentally the second. Even then he was still left with the feeling that he had crippled two minors, one of which was his own child.

Anger made a rational response to Logan's words die in his throat. Instead he snapped;

"I don't have to explain myself to **you**." 

* * *

><p>Kurt had never seen his aunt so angry, so upset. He understood. Her husband and son were both mutants. They had been mutants as long as she had known them and she had dedicated her life to helping other mutants. Her work was being nullified and people were insinuating that there was something wrong with her family, something that needed to be 'cured'.<p>

If he wanted to be generous he knew that he too was part of that family. He could see the worried looks she sent his way. Moira was wondering how badly this would hurt him. It was touching but he saw that she had a lot on her mind at the moment. Panic and whispers were running through the Island and she was doing her best to calm them.

He assisted her, mostly focusing on the younger children. TJ was especially was affected. Although not fully comprehending she had caught onto the mood. Luna too seemed to be struck by it. She had been with TJ being babysat when the rest of the Island found out. She was crying and rocking back and forth, refusing to be comforted.

Lorna had had to be called in. She knelt down as her daughter whispered;

"Everyone's bwue and white. And there's silvew now. Make them stop mama. Don't be bwue. Don't be silvew. Pwease mama."

Lorna had just held her and said quietly;

"It's going to be okay."

To his surprise Kurt had seen her start to murmur a few soft words in German. He recognized them as words of comfort, but Lorna had never spoken German before in his hearing. She picked her up and rocked her, still whispering those same words. Luna fell asleep soon and Lorna looked up and caught him staring.

"My father did that to me once when I was upset," she said, "It…it worked."

Remembering who her father was Kurt gave her a shocked look. Lorna had picked up Luna then and, with a sigh, taken her back to her house. He'd put TJ to sleep later, feeling troubled. TJ had asked him to stay at her bedside until she fell asleep since she was worried. Her big eyes had looked at him as she said;

"Everyone's all afraid."

Kurt had obliged and he watched her sleeping form. He'd been there for a long time. Outside the door there was so much pain and fear. He didn't want to be part of it if he didn't have to be, although he knew he would soon. Feeling despondent he glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight; he'd have to leave for his lessons soon. If Azazel had been unwilling to cancel lessons because Kurt was heartbroken he doubted he'd stop for The Cure.

The door creaked and he saw Amanda come in. She gave him a small smile before standing next to him.

"She asleep?" she asked.

"Ja," answered Kurt, "Has been for a few minutes."

"We should leave then," Amanda whispered, "Let her get her rest. You need some too."

Kurt nodded and allowed Amanda to lead him out of the room. She closed the door behind them and stood with him.

"I got some of the pictures taken at Christmas," she said, her voice sounding strained under a false casualness, "Took me a few weeks to find a good developer so they just got done. I don't know which ones you'd want."

"Vhichever vones you do not."

Amanda bit her lip before cupping his face in her hands.

"You okay?" she asked.

"I need to be somevhere. Now ist not ze time to-" he started.

Amanda shook her head.

"It's okay, you can tell me."

Sighing he took her hand and started walking to the courtyard. Snow was falling there and it was cold despite the fact that it was spring. Although Amanda had a coat on Kurt took her in his arms when they sat down. He enjoyed feeling her warmth, the comfort she offered him. Without saying anything Amanda scooched closer and fisted a hand on his chest.

"I do not vant ze Cure," he said quietly.

"No one said you did," Amanda said.

"Nein, zey did not," Kurt said, "But I know some out zere zink; he looks strange. Of course he vould like ze Cure. Zat vas vhy it vas made."

Her fingertips touched his neck and he drew her closer.

"But I do not," he said, "I know vhat I look like; some sort of demon."

"You-"

"Miene engel," sighed Kurt, "I know vhat I look like. I know you do not see me as such, but it is how ozzers see me."

He paused, trying to get his words together.

"But ze Lord made me zis vay for a reason," he said, "Und ja, it has hindered me sometimes. It has caused hurt."

His voice trailed off.

"I vas experimented on vonce," Kurt said quietly.

Amanda stiffened in his arms, turning to look at him. His eyes met hers.

"I vas put under mind control and nearly killed ze President," he said, the words choking him, "Zat ist vhat the mark on ze back of my neck ist; I am sure you haf noticed. Ze vound in my shoulder came from vhen I vas shot to prevent me from doing so."

Tears were gathering in her eyes and she clutched the cloth of his shirt tighter. One of his hands came up to brush away her tears.

"But zis ist who I am," he said, "I still zink zere is a reason for it. I vas able to save miene Onkel and children because I could teleport. I could bring miene lieber Vetter to Vashington to help Herr McCoy vhen he needed to because I vas special. I haf saved lives. I haf done good vith this. It is a gift. I see no reason for a cure, but I know zat some do not see vhat zey haf as a gift. For zem zey vill take zis cure und regret it later. Zey vill haf taken a part of zemselves avay forever vith no chance of getting it back. I vill not lose myself zat vay. I pity zhoze zat made it and zhoze who vill take it. Zey are destroying themselves and ozzers under ze idea zat zey are helping."

Amanda was openly crying now.

"Do not cry engel," he said.

She shook her head.

"I love you Kurt," Amanda said, "I'm sure of it. But I just…how can you do this? Go on every day and know that there are people who try to 'cure' you? No one's ever tried to cure my skin or hair…I don't understand why they do that to you and you can just forgive them like that and…that's something different about you, how you forgive. Where does something like that come from?"

_A terrorist mother and God only knows who my father was, _he thought.

Instead he took a deep breath out and thought about the rosary in his pocket that he had carried all his life. He smiled.

"Faith."

Her eyes widened. She pushed her face up and kissed him fiercely. Amanda was still crying, allowing him to taste her tears against her soft lips. She had been the first woman he'd kissed, the first woman he'd let himself imagine kissing and holding close. While he knew that he hadn't been the first one to kiss her he selfishly wanted to be the last. Kurt wondered if that was some sort of sin, that innate selfishness.

His hands gripped her tightly, trying not to let his fingers dig into her back but always wanting her closer. The woman in his arms was a gift to him, someone placed in his life at exactly the right time like his family. She was something precious that he knew he needed to protect and keep. If she would let him he would happily do that for the rest of his life.

She parted from him and took a deep breath. Her heart locket dangled from her neck as she leaned up against his chest. Calmly he kissed her in the hollow of her throat where the necklace usually rested. She took a sharp breath in as her hands tangled in his hair. When he stopped she rested her head in the crook of his neck, cuddling up against him.

"This is cute."

Kurt turned and suppressed a groan. Azazel was standing up against the wall, his tail swishing back and forth in amusement. Amanda turned and looked at him, confusion coming into her eyes. Feeling obliged to break the silence that was rapidly becoming awkward Kurt coughed.

"Amanda, zis ist miene teacher for teleportation, Azazel," he said, "And Azazel-"

"You have spoken of her," said Azazel.

He looked at Amanda in a way that Kurt could only describe as **appraising**. The look didn't make him comfortable. Kurt didn't know why but that look made something inside him twist. He didn't know the reason for the look or why it gave him a sense of foreboding and he shook it off.

"Hi," Amanda said, getting up and extending her hand.

Azazel looked at her hand and teleported so that he was right in front of her. She blinked in surprise and coughed from the smoke. However, she didn't jump as he took her hand and she met his eyes. The appraising look continued for a few more seconds until Azazel gave a brief nod. It was almost as if he had somehow deemed Amanda acceptable.

"Zdra-stvu-eetee," he said, "I was waiting for Kurt to come to his lesson."

"Oh, he said he had somewhere to go," Amanda said, letting go, "Sorry I…kept him."

She blushed and Azazel laughed.

"Not my business," he said.

Amanda gave a weak smile before walking out of the courtyard. She stopped briefly at Kurt to touch his forehead and whisper;

"See you tomorrow."

Then she was gone. Kurt sighed and got to his feet.

"So, that was the devochka that had you in such a frenzy," Azazel said, looking speculative, "You do not waste time."

Kurt flushed and looked at the sky.

"Word of warning to save heartache," said Azazel, "Put ring on her finger before you put a child in her. Less chance of her leaving."

His stomach flipped and he jerked his head up.

"Vhat on earth-?"

"I am just saying," Azazel smirked, "You two do not seem to be shy-"

"Gott in Hiemmel!" exclaimed Kurt, "It ist not like zat!"

"No need to be defensive. Perfectly normal. You are right age for it, the two of you," said Azazel, "But not outside. There are too many people and it is cold."

"Ve are not…vere not," sputtered Kurt, "Vait, vhy are ve talking about zis?"

Azazel's smirk appeared again and he held up his hands.

"Just advice, since it worked so well the last time," he said, "Now, teleporting."

Kurt shuddered, knowing he was in for a hard session. He had to be focused when he teleported and he couldn't focus when he was thinking about **that**. 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Just to clarify; Legion is actually a super mutant. He has manifested all of those powers mentioned at one point or another, although I wanted to focus on his telepathy for this story. Also, I thought it would work as good reason why Charles got so pissed at Logan during that scene. _


	26. Chapter 26

There was nothing for her. Not anymore. It was the only thought that echoed in Mystique's head as she was left on the floor of the transporter, shivering like a newborn babe in her pink skin. She hadn't watched them go, hadn't tried to escape. What was the point? They had destroyed her and she didn't have the presence of mind to pick up the pieces.

Mystique did have the presence of mind to steal the dead security guard's coat and wrap it around her though. Why shouldn't she cover up? She wasn't beautiful anymore. Erik had said so and he was right. There had been so many times in her life where she had felt ugly and wrong. She gathered her legs up to her chin and bit back her tears.

It was odd. When she was younger she had thought that her blue form was the ugly one, the one that wouldn't gain acceptance. Even Charles had known this and he'd tried to shield her from the knowledge during her teenage years. As she got older though she knew that he tried to avoid talking about it, trying to build up gently to the inevitable knowledge.

Charles. She must be changing to think of him as anything other than Professor X. She had been trying to distance herself from her old life so hard that she didn't dare think of him as her brother. It was dangerous to do so. So many times she had marveled at Erik's control, still being able to refer to Charles by his first name, call him friend.

Her last real conversation with him was painfully obvious in her mind.

"_You know Charles, I used to think it was gonna be you and me against the world. But no matter how bad the world gets, you don't want to be against it, do you? You wanna be a part of it!"_

That had been cruel, she could see that now. It had been justified though. He hadn't understood and she'd been furious that he hadn't. They'd known each other for years. So how could Erik waltz in and understand what she was feeling better than her own brother? It had made her feel like the world was shifting.

"_I'm incapable of thinking of you that way. I feel responsible for you. Anything else would just feel wrong."_

She had wanted to be responsible for herself though and she had taken a leap of faith. For the first time Mystique had wondered if, at the tender age of eighteen, she had actually been ready to do that. Had she been too impressionable, an innocent who rushed into things without thinking them through and then getting surprised when she fell off the cliff?

True, she had been molded by Erik and the Brotherhood into something new. She'd wanted it though. At what point had she said stop? All she'd ever said was more, more. Any opportunity to gain strength, to lose herself, was welcomed. Mystique had enjoyed it, had reveled in feeling powerful and perfect.

Twenty years later this was what it had gotten her; nothing. There was nowhere to go without her mutation. She had let it define her completely for the past few decades and now she felt lost. Her mind shifted to all that molding she'd taken and thought about the four men in her life who had shaped her.

Charles was one of them, a brother who was out there still fighting. She wondered if he was still married to Moira. Her name had slipped out of reports shortly after the debacle with Lorna. They knew that David was Hank's aide, her little telepath nephew trying his hand at politics. He was succeeding from what she'd heard. It was hs father's genius coming through. Still, she wondered if Moira had been yet another tragedy to mar Charles' life.

She still loved him in a distant way. He was an idiot, she still believed that, but he was still her brother. Mystique wasn't ignorant of his desperate attempts to visit her in jail. It was why her escapes were always so rushed and risky. The last thing she wanted was for him to lose a little bit of whatever fool's image he still had of his little sister. Ignorance was the best state to keep Charles in, something she'd learned from Erik.

Yes, Erik. The man who had offered her his hand and then years left her in the back of the convoy. Yet, she agreed with him. Mystique wasn't one of them anymore. She wasn't beautiful and, in his normal blunt way, he had said it. That was all. It would have been funny if it wasn't so tragic. She curled her feet closer to her.

When she was younger she was so sure that she'd been in love with him. She was probably just attracted to the power, dominance, and confidence that he exuded. It was pathetic really but it had evolved into a deep-seated trust. That's what she'd thought anyway. Did he mourn her loss? She didn't know and, in a way, she didn't want to know. The last thing that Mystique wanted was to have her fears confirmed that she'd meant nothing after twenty years.

Her mind drifted to the other mutant she'd been intimate with and changed her. Azazel. She wondered vaguely where he was. He had never been in a real conversation with her after she had told him her plan to leave their child with Charles. There was only one exception; right after she'd miscarried their child. He'd noticed and asked briefly in private;

"Tell me this; malchick or devochka? Name? You owe me that."

She had shaken her head, trying to keep calm.

"I…I had a miscarriage."

His eyes had remained blank and his face impassive. There was a glint of anger in him then.

"You killed him," he said bluntly, "Finally happy?"

Without another word he had teleported away. At first Mystique had been angry, thinking he was placing too much blame on her. Then she realized that, in a way, he was right. Maybe if she'd been with him she wouldn't have had to hide her pregnancy, wouldn't have had to go on missions. She would have been able to take better care of her unborn child. If he'd had that care then maybe he wouldn't have died.

Tears welled up in her then on the floor of the convoy. She pushed them down and thought of the fourth man; the child she had lost. After screaming and injuring three orderlies she'd managed to get out of them that the child had been a boy. Her mind had slipped then. He'd been the boy that she hadn't wanted, the boy who'd been an inconvenience.

Miscarrying him hurt though. Azazel was right; she had probably managed to kill him. So she carried that with her. She should have taken better care of that little life. All the boy had had was her and she had let him down. Mystique was still letting him down. She'd been too upset to reclaim the body, had never named him, never had him baptized, never had him buried.

In her mind she didn't dare name him. If she named him then she knew she'd start thinking about what-ifs. What if he had survived? What if she had given him to Charles? What if she had raised him with Azazel? It was too much to handle. So in her mind she simply thought of him as her son. He was her greatest mistake; he never should have been conceived. He was her greatest failure; he should have been able to live before he died.

Sirens approached the convoy. Mystique didn't look up as the troopers came in and leveled guns on her. She laughed then. Couldn't they see that there was no point?

"Are you Mystique?" one of them asked.

How did they know? Mystique looked up at the cameras in the convoy. Of course. She had been watched.

"You might as well call me Raven Darkholme," she said bitterly, "It doesn't much matter anymore."

* * *

><p>Next to Emma Megan looked outside of the helicopter. She frowned.<p>

"This place gives me the creeps."

"That's because of the residual psychic energy," said Emma smartly, "You can feel it, but you don't recognize what it is. Your brain isn't right for it."

"My brain is fine, thank you very much."

She smiled and put on her white-rimmed sunglasses. Canada wasn't her favorite spot by any means. There were too many trees and not enough beaches. It reminded her of where she'd grown up which made it ugly. Still, she was up for a little adventuring. Having Megan with her almost made it feel like a vacation.

The helicopter landed and she got out. With all of the bad business with The Cure she certainly needed a vacation. Walking around the lake she felt calm. This was the way to get her mind off things; to take a risk. With Megan walking behind her she didn't feel in danger though. At most they'd find a powerful but confused telepath. That could be handled.

However, she got the feeling they'd already missed whatever it was. There were traces of psychic energy all around them, true enough. Upon closer inspection she could also see where a jet had landed. It was big and she crouched down to investigate the markings in the ground. She had to be careful or she'd get dirt all over her white clothes.

More and more she hated the pristine color she had to wear. It was too late to turn away from it and too much effort to make people **think** she was wearing white. If they hadn't had to stop by a Hellfire location just before this she would have worn yellow or green that day. Emma had never had to be the White Queen when she was with just Megan, so she'd allowed herself to wear more colorful attire in the past.

Still, there was a lingering fondness for white. If she closed her eyes she could still remember the floor length white gown made especially for her. Behind her she heard the snip of Christian's scissors as he went through the fabric, making it just so. He said that if she was going to be playing a princess she might as well look like one.

Shaking off the memory she got up.

"Some old friends of mine were here," she said, "I recognize the jet."

"When you say old friends you mean enemies right?" asked Megan.

"Yes," Emma said, continuing her walk, "Although I don't know who's in charge of the organization anymore. No need for me to pay too much attention. But we won't have to fight them; they're long gone."

Yawning she continued walking, going a little deeper into the surrounding woods. Megan walked beside her.

"Do you think they already took care of whatever it was?" she asked.

"Yes. Shame, I was quite curious about what caused this. I was in Washington when I felt this. That's quite the range if you know what I mean," sighed Emma, "No point in going on a wild goose chase though."

"Ummm…"

"Yes Megan?"

"It's shorter to the chopper if we go that way," said Megan, jerking her thumb the way they came, the exact opposite way that Emma was going, "This will probably take fifteen minutes more."

"I know," Emma said, "But I'm bored and disappointed. Humor me."

"But your shoes-"

"Honey, when I was growing up if a woman couldn't go over treacherous rocks in high heels then they'd never be able to leave the house," said Emma, "Besides, I can keep my balance well enough-"

One of her shoes caught on a root and sent her stumbling down a crevice. She turned into diamond form before she managed to injure herself, but when she'd slid to the bottom she was covered in thick mud. Emma made a face of disgust. This was why she hated white; stupid color that it was.

"Are you okay?" called Megan.

"I'm fine," Emma said, shaking the excess mud off her hands, "Just mortified. Stay up there for a minute before teleporting down here. I need a minute."

"For what?"

"Picking up my pride," Emma called back, "And don't you dare say I told you so."

"Wouldn't dream of it. But I did."

Rolling her eyes Emma started to get up. As she did so she noticed what she thought was a limb. Curious she walked over and saw the body of a man lying limply on the ground, his jacket stained and his eyes tightly closed. Emma frowned. She had seen corpses before, but the lack of blood on this one was curious.

She reached out to touch him and then hesitated. The last man she'd touched was Shaw. She could still remember the feel of his calloused hands on her body. Emma shuddered. She might have been able to escape his bed by using mind tricks, but it was too complicated to alter everyone's memories when to make them think she was casually kissing or touching her. She'd tried to keep his contact marginal, planting suggestions in his mind to not be so touchy. Eventually it had taken and Emma had breathed a sigh of relief.

Ever since that whatever contact she'd had with anyone was minimal, except when she kissed Megan goodnight or tucked her in. Megan was practically a daughter to her, it was alright. The corpse, though a corpse, was still that of a man's. Revulsion built up and she settled on getting up and prodding him with the toe of her shoe.

To her surprise the man jerked and his eyes opened. A beam of light shot straight into the sky, severing several branches. Emma turned into her diamond form out of instinct even as his eyes snapped shut again. His action seemed to be based on synapses misfiring out of anything else, but she still cautiously tapped him again with her foot. This time there was no response.

Megan materialized next to her, looking panicked.

"I saw the beam! What happened?" she asked.

Emma cocked her head and turned back to flesh. She tapped the unconscious man's mind and found only fuzzy darkness. The man had obviously been wounded in whatever had caught her attention. It might even be tampering with her ability to look into his mind and see what had happened. She frowned again and made a split decision. After all, she had wanted to know what had happened at Alkali Lake that would get the attention of a telepath as powerful as she knew she was.

So, smoothing out her hair, she gestured with her hand to the form of the still man.

"Nothing. But it looks like we've got one more for the chopper," she said, "When he's better I have some questions I'd like to ask." 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_You know, from First Class we all got the idea that Emma and Shaw were an item. Personally I agree, but think back. Did you ever see them kiss? _


	27. Chapter 27

Kurt looked over Lincross. The last time he had been there had been with his cousin. It was still a pleasant town and the people there were still as open and friendly as they had been the first time. Despite everything that had happened over the past few days at least that had remained the same.

Next to him TJ tugged on his hand, urging him forward. She actually broke free, only to be scooped up by Amanda.

"No getting ahead of the group," she scolded.

TJ looked behind her at the other students. Already Will and Tom were starting to wander off, only to be ushered back in line by Clarice.

"Hm," she said, "Wish Luna could come."

"She's not old enough," Amanda said.

TJ sighed and shifted. Every Saturday the students went into the town, their one real outing from the facility. Chaperones always went with them, in this case Clarice. Kurt had volunteered too and had asked Amanda if she wanted to join them. With Warren gone she didn't have too many opportunities to leave the Island.

She'd come and made not only Kurt's day, but TJ's as well. She clung to each one of them in turn, climbing up Kurt's back and wrapping her arms around his neck. He carried her that way until she got bored and jumped into Amanda's arms. Every now and then she would make a few comments about the weather or reiterating her wish for Luna to be there. At the moment she had settled on braiding Amanda's hair.

Clarice walked up beside them.

"Hey, some of the kids want to go to the arcade," she said, "I know you were planning on taking TJ to the toy store so I was thinking of splitting up."

"We're going to the toy store?" asked TJ, perking up.

Clarice winced.

"Did I spoil a surprise?" she asked.

"Not exactly," Amanda said.

Shifting TJ in her arms Amanda said;

"Your birthday's coming up and we were talking, Moira and I. We wanted to get you one of those crowns from the toy store you liked. One of the nice ones. But we wanted you to pick it out."

TJ's eyes lit up and she squealed, wrapping her arms around Amanda's neck. Kurt smiled at the two of them.

"You sure you can handle her by yourself?" asked Clarice.

"I could go vith you," Kurt offered.

"No, I know you need lots of help looking after the kidss," she said, "Besides, TJ's going to behave. Aren't you?"

Giggling TJ nodded. Amanda smiled and kissed Kurt on the cheek.

"We'll meet back here in ten," she said.

"Alright," agreed Kurt.

Boosting TJ up once more she headed off in the direction of the toy store. He remembered the sound her boots made as they smacked down on the pavement. Someone was filming their family on the other side of the square, some tourist. Tom and Will were arguing about which games they would play. The wind was blowing, swishing Amanda's hair and making his skin tingle.

It wasn't much. However, as his cousin had once told him, it was the normal things you remembered when the proceeding events weren't.

* * *

><p>"Oh yeah, come here," said Tom, his eyebrows scrunching in concentration, "Just a little to the left…come on…aha!"<p>

The screen lit up as Pac Man ate the last pellet in the last level.

"HELL YEAH!" Tom shouted, "Comin' for ya' now! I'm a-comin'!"

Will watched as his twin, cackling, guided Pac Man as he ate up the ghosts. At times like this he wondered how Tom could be his brother, let alone his twin.

"High score!" he yelled, punching the air.

"Yeah, yeah," yawned Will, "Can we go play _Space Invaders_ now?"

"Why's it always aliens with you?" said Tom, letting go of the controls.

"Why's it always ghosts with you?" countered Will.

"Okay, point taken," Tom said, "Know where the others are?"

"Do you care? They always find us sooner or later," Will said, moving to the entrance of the arcade, "Besides, we know the way back if they don't."

"Yeah…I don't want to fly over the ocean again. It was wet **and** cold."

"It's fun," Will said stubbornly.

Finding _Space Invaders_ he started to put a few quarters in it. As he did he noticed six men in heavy coats come in. Tom snorted.

"Tourists," he said, "They think it's just sooo cold."

He tugged on his light jacket as though to prove how tough he was. Will frowned.

"They don't look like tourists," he said uncomfortably.

One of the men pulled a baseball cap over his eyes. Will's frown deepening he noticed a few other figures outside, also wearing heavy coats.

"Tom," he said.

Tom stopped midway to his controls.

"What?" he asked.

"Look."

He pointed outside the window to the other men. Tom narrowed his eyes and released the controls.

"I think we need to find Ms. Ferguson," Tom said.

"Yeah, I think we do too." Trying to look nonchalant both boys started to walk down the rows of games. Will wished he hadn't wandered so far from the group. Still, his father had taught him how to deal with situations. He'd taught both of his sons. It didn't mean that he wasn't nervous about using his power in a combative situation for the first time.

He was on alert now and he could tell that Tom was too. It was why, when one of the men came out of nowhere and grabbed for Tom's hand, Tom had already sped away. He appeared seconds later behind the man who still reached blindly. Will let his powers flow through his hands, clearing his mind like he'd been taught.

Red light blasted through his hands and into the man who had tried to hurt his brother. He crashed into an arcade game and toppled it over, a syringe flying into the air. For a moment he thought that it was over, at least briefly. That must have attracted attention from **someone.** If they were lucky it would be Ms. Ferguson or Kurt.

He was more puzzled about the presence of a syringe. Inside of his pocket Will thought he saw a gun, only it was more rounded and looked like it was made out of plastic. Nudging him a little more Will saw a real gun and felt his blood curdle.

Then two more men stepped out from the rows, drawing guns. These ones weren't the strange plastic ones. For a moment Will felt a brief surge of panic that froze him. Luckily his brother hadn't experienced the same feeling. He felt Tom grab his arm. Before Will could blink they were racing out into the square so fast that it made his eyes water.

Panting Will stumbled into the toy store. He hadn't done the running, but his feet had had to struggle to keep up. They had barely touched the ground.

"Why are we here?" he asked.

"Because it's far away and I heard someone say that Amanda was in here," Tom said in a rush, "She's an adult right? And…and…"

Only then did Will realize that Tom had panicked just as much as he had. However, his panic had translated into movement while Will's had frozen him. Why wouldn't they have those reactions though, even after everything that their father had told him? They were only twelve. Twelve-year-olds weren't supposed to be attacked, to have guns drawn on them.

"Okay, we'll find her," Will said.

Together they rushed through the store, Tom still dragging Will. They found Amanda adjusting a crown on TJ's head. She stopped when she saw them.

"Time to go already?" she frowned.

"There are people with guns!" shouted Tom.

Amanda blinked at him, obviously wondering if he was joking. Taking in their disheveled and scared looks she decided they weren't.

"Do they know you're here?" asked Amanda, picking up TJ and ushering them close to her, "Do you know?"

"I don't think so," Will said, trying to remember.

"Okay, we'll just find a corner of the store and lay low and-"

The glass front of the store shattered under a gunshot. Amanda dropped to the floor, pushing them all down with her. The crown on TJ's head fell in front of them. Will felt glass settle in his hair as TJ started up a high, keening wail.

* * *

><p>From somewhere on the other side of the arcade Kurt heard a crash. He looked up to see one of the arcade games topple over, pushing another down in a domino-like effect.<p>

"Those twins," groaned Clarice, "They're going to get us banned."

Kurt was about to say something when a saw a man get up, flailing blindly with a gun. His eyes widened and he heard Clarice gaspe. From one of her side pockets she drew a pink crystal and tossed it at him, pinning him in the arm. There was a flash of light before the man disappeared.

"Kurt, we have to get the kids out, get back to the Island, get Cassidy and the Summers," she said, "I'll make sure no one comes through here."

He nodded and started gathering up the group of children. Behidn him he heard several noises,what he could only guess was Clarice fighting off more attackers. Some of them had seen the man and were cringing and whimpering. Others hadn't and showed more confusion than anything else. Either way he had them all in a group by the time three men came upon them.

Kurt hadn't fought anyone in nearly a year. He had never been made for it. However, he was an acrobat. He could teleport. He had been training with Azazel for months now. Taking a deep breath he teleported into the air behind the first man, kicking him in the neck. The man was sent flying and Kurt's tail wrapped around another man's gun, jerking it out of his hand.

The third man fired at him but Kurt teleported out of the way quickly. He'd been shot once and had no wish to go through such a thing again. However, as he moved out of the trajectory, he realized that bullets weren't being fired, at least not with that strangely shaped gun. Instead it had been a syringe.

Teleporting behind the man he flipped him over, sending him crashing into an arcade machine. Turning his head he saw the first man was up and levelling his gun, a normal one. Kurt got ready to teleport just as a baseball bat cracked over the man's head.

Standing behind him was one of the patrons from the arcade, looking stunned. Letting his eyes flicker around Kurt realized that another man had been stopped at the counter by the arcade counter, taken down by shoving the cash register on him. Other men outside the store were trying to escape, only to be detained by several of the other townspeople.

He blinked as Clarice rushed up behind him.

"I've got the crystal ready," she said, "I can take the kids out but Will, Tom, and TJ are missing. I haven't seen Amanda either. I think they're at the toy store."

Kurt looked at her, his heart thudding loudly against his ribcage.

"Get ze children to ze Island," he said, "I vill find zem."

His heartbeat still crashing in his ears he teleported in the direction of the toy store, hoping he wasn't too late.

* * *

><p>"Hey, maybe you should check this out."<p>

Erik turned and raised an eyebrow at Pyro. Ever since they had lost Mystique the boy had been taking more and more liberties. He was an enthusiastic recruit, no doubt about it, but there was an edge that Erik didn't like about the boy. There was a deep hatred for the Institute in him, not something that Erik had wanted to encourage in any one of his adherents.

Thier purpose was to take the world for mutants whether or not certain factions helped them. If they got in thier way then yes, they would certainly fight them. They weren't going to go around destroying other mutants purposely though. Pyro didn't seem to understand that.

Still, he was useful and observant. Moving his cape Erik strode over to where Pyro watched the TV. It was the news, the anchor looking worried.

"We're just getting this in," she said, sounding worried, "Coming from the town of Lincross in Scotland, near a hospital and school for mutants on Muir Island."

"Xavier has some sort of sister school there," Pyro explained.

The revelation mildly surprised him, but not that much. Charles always did want to build bridges.

"A tourist was filming at the time," she said, biting her lip, "Their camcorder was recovered from the scene. It looks like…those of you with younger children may want them to leave the room. The following footage is disturbing."

* * *

><p>"They'll hurt me!" TJ sobbed, "They're going to hurt me again and they won't listen and I don't know why I have a tail and-"<p>

"It'll be fine TJ, it'll be fine," Amanda said, looking pale faced and scared, "I won't let them hurt you, okay? I won't let them hurt any of you."

She kept them running along to the rear exit of the store. When they got there they realized that the door was locked. Concentrating Will used his powers and made it unlock. Barely pausing they pushed through. Will locked it behind them with his powers and Amanda looked down the alley that they found themselves in. A tourist family ran past, dropping their video camera on the ground with a crash.

Amanda started to direct them away from the alley in the direction that the tourists were running. Instead Will heard TJ shriek behind him. He turned to see someone grab Amanda and throw her against the wall. She hit it hard and slid to the ground, her arms shielding TJ. Another figure pushed grabbed Tom, twisting his arm behind his back. Strong arms did the same with Will, lifting him off his feet.

"Got the syringes?" asked a man lifting Amanda up by her arm.

"Yeah," said a fourth, hurrying down the alley.

He could see that Amanda was clinging to consciousness just like TJ was clinging to her. Will tried desperately to focus, to do something, but he couldn't.

"Give the blue one The Cure first," he said, "She's hard to look at."

A sickening feeling started in the pit of Will's stomach. That's what this was about? That's what that syringe was earlier?

"I'm not sick," sobbed TJ, "They said I wasn't sick-"

Ignoring her the man brought the syringe closer to her skin.

"One less mutant for the Friends of Humanity to worry about."

Amanda's eyes suddenly focused and her foot caught the man sharply in the shin.

"She's perfect the way she is!" she screamed.

He let go as the other man reached for them. TJ's tail suddenly flickered out, smacking him in the face and leaving a gash there. Crying out the man stumbled back, allowing Amanda to kick him again. She stomped on the first man and turned to Will and Tom. He allowed himself to start to smile just as he felt cold metal pressed against his temple.

"One more step and the freak's brains go flying."

It was a gun. Oh God. He thought of his mother who could control metal and wished that she was there. He wished his father was there too, he wished he was home, that this wasn't happening. As he looked at Amanda he saw the first man get to his feet, his syringe ready. Forgetting the gun momentarily Will screamed;

"Amanda!"

She turned around and the syringe stabbed her in the neck. From the look on her face it hurt, but it was okay because she wasn't a mutant. Still, what they had wanted to do made him furious. TJ was still crying and it added to the cacophony in his head. His hands started to glow and he pushed energy into the man holding him. The man screamed and his hand was immediately released.

Next to him Tom had turned his head and bitten the man's arm. There was a slight give and he saw his brother wriggle out, running in a blur around the man so that he pushed him into the wall, kicking his hand and rendering him unconscious. He looked over at the man pushing Amanda away but Will held out his hands.

A red blast hit him in the head and knocked him to the ground. Shakily Amanda looked over to them, wincing from the pain in her shoulder.

"It's alright now," she said, "We have to leave…to…"

A 'bamf' noise cut her off. Kurt appeared next to her.

"Amanda, ist everyzing alright?" he asked, "I vas vith Clarice and zese men came and…miene Gott."

His eyes looked around them.

"It's okay now," Amanda said, clutching TJ, "The others?"

"Clarice teleported zem to ze school. She had several crystals vith her, thank Gott," Kurt said, still looking around him with a furious expression, "Ze townspeople are holding several of zese people, making sure zat zey do not get avay. Zey helped, thank Gott again. Clarice vas going to get Sean und ze Summers. I prayed you had not known und-"

"Like I said, it's okay now," said Amanda, "And…"

Her voice trailed off and her eyes lost focus. Amanda's arms went limp and TJ slid from them with a mewl of protest. Something black started to trickle from her lips.

"Engel?" asked Kurt.

Amanda's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she collapsed, her body wracked with a seizure. Kurt caught her and called her name. TJ started crying again as Will stared.

"Ve need to go," Kurt said, looking panicked, "All of you, grab hold of me. **NOW**!"

Will and Tom scurried to obey, dragging TJ with them. As Will clung to Kurt's coat the sickening thought occured to him that, although they were leaving Lincross, the danger was following them.

* * *

><p>Erik stared at the TV screen as the mutant teleported his small group away. The camera quit rolling and it cut back to the anchor.<p>

"The attackers are thought to be members of the extremist wing of the Friends of Humanity, attempting to administer The Cure to the school children," she said, "The reasons behind the adverse reaction to the cure exhibited in the film are unknown but we have been told that the victim is a non-mutant. Currently she's being treated at Muir Island but is still in critical condition-"

Pyro turned off the TV and smirked.

"Guess that whole coexistence thing didn't work out for them."

With a jerk of his arm Erik sent Pyro flying across the room. The young mutant hit the wall, hard. Erik stormed up to him, fury permeating every part of him.

"That. Was. Not. **Funny**," he snarled, "Do you understand that?"

Looking scared Pyro nodded. Erik dropped him and turned away, storming off to his private quarters. He hadn't taken his anger out on a member of his Brotherhood in years. This was different from anything though. In the past he'd known about the atrocities committed to mutants, even to mutant children. Although it angered him he was aware of its existence. It wouldn't have made him react so extremely.

However, he'd recognized those boys. The picture Lorna had shown him had burned into his memory, a picture where two boys, one with white hair and the other with black, smiled.

_Tom and Will are twins, about ten._

He could see her in their eyes, the eyes of his grandchildren, the eyes of small children being attacked by humans.

_"One more step and the freak's brains go flying."_

A snarl rose in his throat. No matter what, they would pay.


	28. Chapter 28

"-the attack at Lincross on the students from the Muir Island Institute has left no fatalities. However, it has caused the casualty of a non-mutant who was administered The Cure. Her condition is critical but other details are unknown."

Charles felt the breath in his throat catch. Ororo shot him a concerned glance as they drove up the road to Jean's childhood home. The radio anchor was being vague enough to incite worry into both of them, although Logan was seemingly unaware of the looks they shot each other. Charles knew he should be thinking of his students first, of the threat that Jean posed to the world as he knew it, but his mind automatically went to his wife.

She wouldn't have been there, would she? No, he was sure that his wife was safe. Still, he didn't know if she was. Why didn't they have the name of the casualty? Charles closed his eyes and saw Moira stretched out on a makeshift unit in the Blackbird after being tortured by Emma Frost. Her eyes were pained and he just wanted her to be better, to take away her pain. It was what he always thought of when he heard she was hurt, and this time she was so far away from him.

_You've lost Scott_, a voice whispered, _You'll lose your wife too now. _

He shook it off as they pulled up. Charles couldn't let that consume him. He had to worry about Jean now. There was another battle to fight that he had to handle. He would find out about Moira soon. Moira was fine. He had to believe that to get through another one of the greatest trials of his life, if he got through it at all.

* * *

><p>Hank downed a gulp of scotch. Carly had let him into the house, expecting him to be panicked about the Muir Island situation. To her surprise he hadn't even known and she quickly realized she wouldn't have an opportunity to tell him. Instead he had told her that The Cure had been weaponized without his knowledge and, as a result, he had resigned his position as secretary.<p>

"I can't sit there while policy is made without me," he said, "I can't be used. I won't let it happen. I won't…won't be a **puppet**."

"I understand," Carly said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "What are you going to do now?"

"Maybe I'll just sit here, watch the world eat itself," Hank said bitterly.

Carly shook her head.

"I know you too well," she said, "You wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't I?" demanded Hank, slamming his glass down on the counter so hard that it broke, "Maybe I should let the President should sit back and watch it all fall to pieces. He let this happen. He let The Cure be weaponized!"

He turned away from her and slumped down on the couch. Holding back tears Carly sat down next to him. She threaded her fingers through the hair on his neck. In the past the gesture had had a calming effect on Hank and she hoped it would work now. Her husband could be so volatile sometimes that it scared her. Yet, she knew he never meant it, knew it was a rage that he always struggled to contain. He'd never hurt her, never allowed that rage to touch her. For that control the least she could do was help him.

"I think I'll go to Westchester," he said after a time, "I think…I think the world needs the X-Men right now. And Charles could probably do with another one of us."

She took him in her arms then, allowing him to lean against her. He'd always been so careful with her, even when she was still a patient at the hospital. Carly knew he was afraid of breaking her. However, she also knew that he knew she could share his burdens, the dangers that came with his life. It was why he had given her his ring and asked her to be his wife.

"I'm so sorry this happened," he said.

"Stop apologizing," Carly said, "There's nothing to be sorry for."

He shook his head and sighed. As he did so the doorbell rang. She gently detached from him, letting his head rest against the couch. Feeling tired Carly answered the door. If it was a reporter she would kill them herself. Instead she saw David standing in the doorway, looking just as tired as she felt.

David met her eyes and she nodded. Talking to his closest political confidant would probably do Hank good.

"He's in the living room," she said, opening the door fully for him.

* * *

><p>"I resigned."<p>

Hank stared at him as Carly took a seat next to him.

"You what?" he asked.

"I resigned," David said, "As soon as we heard you had…well…there wasn't any real discussion. I went back to my desk and drafted my resignation."

"You didn't have to do that," Hank said, burying his head in his hands.

"Look at it this way," said David weakly, "If you resign we know that something is wrong. Everyone knows how ambitious I am too; so my resigning says a little as well. Other than that, give us all some credit. We have brains; we can read the signs of a sinking ship. So now the President has to deal with the entire Department of Mutant Affairs resigning."

He gave a wry smile at Hank's shocked expression.

"Well…maybe not all of us," he said, "But I'd say ninety percent anyway. He'll beg to have you back in the end. Maybe this time he'll really mean for you to become part of his cabinet."

His voice turned bitter at the end. He couldn't help it. David had thought that they had really done it, that coexistence was finally being achieved. He'd been wrong.

"I heard that Muir Island had been attacked," Carly said softly.

Hank's head turned in surprise. David hung his head.

"Yes," he said, "I thought you knew Hank."

"I didn't," he said, "Carly, why didn't you-?"

"There wasn't a chance," she said.

Hank opened his mouth and then shut it.

"I see," he said, acknowledging the truth of her statement, "What happened?"

"Friends of Humanity," spat David, "They tried to forcefully 'cure' some of the students with the weaponized version of the chemical."

Across from him Hank gasped.

"This was what I was worried about. What has happened...there are no words," growled Hank.

"No, there aren't," David agreed, "They only administered one Cure though; to a homo sapien exchange student named Amanda. It…it did something to her…her organs are shutting down. She's on life support now."

David closed his eyes. He remembered contacting Kurt and hearing his anguish in his head. He tried to reassure him, said that he'd be along soon. That was a promise he planned on keeping. His cousin needed him. Even if he hadn't just resigned he knew he would have dropped everything to help him. Family was everything.

"_Look at me Jean! I can help you! Look at me!"_

David frowned and pressed two fingers towards his temples. The words had come across so strongly that they hurt. He could tell his father was transmitting them, although he didn't think he was doing it on purpose. However, it took a lot for his father to lose control like that. He concentrated a little more, nudging the link further into life. With some more concentration he zeroed in on his location and let an unfamiliar place flood his eyelids.

"David?" asked Hank.

_He looked around and found himself in a simply decorated room. His father was there as well as Magneto and…and Jean Grey. No, she was dead. He knew it was Jean Grey though, but at the same time not. Even through his remote view he knew there was something different about her; something wrong. The psychic energy she was giving off was dark and strange. _

_She looked up and suddenly he felt very afraid. _

"_Get out of my head," she rumbled._

_His father's wheelchair was thrown back several feet. _

"_Perhaps you should listen to her Charles," suggested Magneto tauntingly. _

_His father ignored him, his voice practically a plea. _

"_You must trust me! You're a danger to everyone and yourself! But I can help you!"_

"_I think you want to give her The **C**__**ure**__," laughed Magneto. _

"David?" Hank asked again, getting up, "David, what's wrong?"

He put another hand on his temples to steady the first, squeezing his eyes shut and bunching his hands into fists.

"_Look what happened to Scott!" his father shouted. _

_Jean looked up at him with tears in her eyes. David felt like he was looking through a cage at a helpless creature, shuddering and scared. _

"_You killed the man you loved because you couldn't control your power!" Charles pressed on. _

_Scott was dead? No, he couldn't be. How could-?_

"_**NO! STOP IT!**"_

_Glass shattered around them and Magneto was thrown back. From somewhere another door splintered. There was lightning outside and wind. Walls were being smashed in the distance. Immediately next to him a couch flew into the wall. There was an intent in Jean's eyes now, a cold calculating intent. Panic set into David then, not for himself. _

'_Father,' _he sent_, 'Father you have to get out of there!'_

There was too much static; his father couldn't hear him. He concentrated more, his hands on the side of his head and rocking back and forth in his chair.

"Whatever you're doing, you have to stop," Hank said, "David, you have to let go."

"Hank," Carly said, looking at the table.

Blood began to drip from his nose and onto his pants. It wasn't important. His father was there and Jean wasn't herself, she wasn't **right** because she'd never harm him or Scott and-

"_Jean, let me in," his father begged. _

'_Father get out of there!' _David screamed psychically.

'_David? _His father thought in surprise, _You have to leave, it's not safe here. Not even psychically.' _

'_I'll leave when you do, _he thought back, _I know you want to help her but please, please, she's wrong! You have to leave!'_

_Water from the kitchen sink began running the wrong way. Something had shifted around them. He could feel that his father was being lifting into the air. There was a jolt and gravity began reversing making David, though miles away, sick to his stomach. White flashed through his mind as flecks of skin flaked from his father's limbs. _

'_Dad no! __**NO!'**_

"_No Jean! JEAN!" Magneto shouted. _

_Everything was chaos around them, wood and glass hovering in the air. Then everything slowed, encased in something that felt like the threads of the universe. Jean's' eyes were completely black and David knew what she wanted. There was a deadly intent in her eyes, calm and almost excited. Somewhere far off he felt himself caught between crying and screaming, perhaps doing both. _

'_Please Dad, please, I love you, you can't…she can't, please please!'_

_By the end he didn't know who he was begging; his father, Jean, or the world. The chaos in his thoughts is in complete contrast to his father's. Somehow he was serene, almost accepting. From somewhere to his right the man he'd heard called Logan and the Wolverine forced the door open. However, even David knew that it was too late for whatever he'd hoped to do. _

"_Don't let it control you," his father said, words that David knows are his last piece of advice to his student. _

_Thoughts were sent out, each one different. David saw a chessboard. The chess pieces, white and black were lined up as though for a game. Jean appeared, staring at it with those same cold eyes. Then she smashed it. The broken pieces flew into the air, white and black mingling together in the destruction. _

_His thoughts changed. David saw a beach from his father's eyes, strewn with the wreckage of a plane and a submarine. A choice was being made there, a choice that would shape the future. He saw Magneto and Mystique leave his father to bleed into the uncaring sand, surrounded by his soon-to-be-wife and students. _

_Moira is in the library, turning around so she could see him after months apart. She won't leave; Charles knows that now. It was pointless of him to try. Suddenly she's lying in the Blackbird, bones broken and skin burned. Her hand is in his father's and he's calling her sweetheart. She still won't leave, will never leave him. He can see that in her; see that in her shining beauty. One of her fingers is soon encircled in a golden ring._

_The world shifted again. He's trying to explain to his friend about his daughter, praying that she'll save him instead of him corrupting her. In the end the greatest opportunity he ever had to regain his friend slips away. However, Lorna is still there. She still lives on despite her tears and pain. Erik lives on too, lives on in anger and fear. _

_One by one his students graduate and the world turns. Hank is a senator. Sean works for Interpol. Alex and Lorna are married and teachers. Scott, Ororo, and Jean have grown up too and the next generation comes in. They struggle like the ones before them and he's there to help guide them through their darkest days. The school is still a sanctuary. _

_David sees himself put in his father's arms for the first time, all blue eyes and auburn hair. The following thoughts were more feelings than images. He's growing up in his father's eyes and running around, his childhood abruptly silenced at eight. He grows up though. As always he's a constant source of pride to his father, though he's far away and he's missed so much of his life. _

'_Goodbye David,' _his father thought.

_He knew he was screaming now, his open mouth tasting his tears and blood. His father never said goodbye to him before. It was always 'I'll see you soon'. And now he won't say that. David screamed louder, both from the pain that was coming through the connection and the inevitable knowledge that that connection would be broken._

_Somewhere in the distance his father smiled, resigned and prepared. Blindly David flailed out with his mind. For a moment there was a sensation like his hand was gripping someone's wrist. Then an excruciating pain started in his head. _

"_CHARLES!" Magneto screamed. _

'_FATHER!'_

The connection ended abruptly. David fell from his chair, hitting the hard floor. The blood from his nose spread everywhere and his limbs twitched from the pain.

"David?" Hank yelled, rushing to his side.

David shook his head blankly.

"My…my father's dead…" he whispered, the words broken.

Hank stared at him, his face full of shock and horror. It was the last thing David saw before his world faded to black.


	29. Chapter 29

Moira raised a hand to wipe the sweat off her forehead. In the corner she saw Kurt rocking on his heels, clutching his rosary and praying fervently in German. She turned from her nephew back to Amanda, the steady movement of her chest and the beeping of the heart monitor the only indicators that she was still alive.

They had tried. God knew how they had tried. Moira had watched in horror as, one by one, Amanda's organs had begun to shut themselves down. There was no way of knowing what was in The Cure; the formula was a secret. Instead they had transfused blood, put her on dialysis, a million different machines and techniques were used to try to keep Amanda Sefton alive.

The result was a woman who, while alive, needed the machines around her to survive. If any one of them broke down the results didn't bear thinking about. She hadn't shown any signs of waking either. Moira worried that, despite all their efforts, despite pumping out her own O blood to save her, they would be given a comatose patient in place of the vibrant student. And if that happened it would destroy her nephew.

Feeling tired Moira looked over at Kurt again. He hadn't moved and his eyes hadn't opened. David had contacted them both telepathically, trying to give some semblance of comfort to his cousin. It hadn't worked as much as it should have. Moira placed a hand on his shoulder and he looked up, his eyes glassy and haunted.

"She's stable now Kurt," she said.

He swallowed.

"Vhen…vhen vill she vake up?"

Moira closed her eyes.

"We don't know."

Kurt looked away from her and Moira bit her lip.

"I had Doug put out a call to her family," she said, "They should be here as soon as they can. The whole area's security has been tightened; cordoned off by the Scottish government. Right now all we can do is hope and pray."

Her nephew nodded and turned back to his rosary. Feeling exhausted Moira took her hand off his shoulder and left the room. The halls were quiet despite the earlier commotion. She remembered Lorna and Alex rushing forward to scoop up their sons a few minutes after they had been delivered.

TJ hadn't fared so well. Her screams had echoed throughout the castle as Amanda had been taken off to urgent care. Moira had had to sedate the child so they could pull her off and treat Amanda. TJ was still resting in her room; the sedative would wear off soon. She hoped she'd be fine by then.

Doug walked up to her and she gave him a tired smile. His face was pinched and drawn as she knew hers was too.

"Hank called," he said, "He says he needs to speak to you."

Moira sighed and dragged herself into the office space with the phone. She collapsed into her chair and picked up the call.

* * *

><p>Kurt let his hands open and looked at his angel. If she hadn't been surrounded by so many machines he would have thought her asleep. Instead there was an oxygen mask over her face and countless IV's sticking into her arms.<p>

As though in a dream he got out of his chair and walked over to her. She seemed so peaceful but he remembered when she'd still had a little consciousness left. Moira had explained to him that her synapses had been misfiring random words, that she wasn't processing what she was seeing. It still haunted him though.

"My parents," she'd stuttered, black bubbling from her lips and her eyes wide from the pain, "I got a scholarship…they'll be proud. Stephan needs to learn how to work a dishwasher…figured out the dryer…we're all going shopping next week."

Her eyes had rolled around, staring straight at him though he saw no recognition there.

"Kurt…my locket…he needs to see…someone tell him..."

Although he knew it wasn't her fault the fact that she hadn't recognized him it had hurt. It showed just how far gone she was, how likely it was that he may never hear her voice or see her smile again. One of his hands brushed up against her forehead. There was no reaction from her.

"It's alright engel," he said, although he knew deep down that she couldn't hear him, "It's alright. I'm going to vatch ofer you."

From behind him he heard the door creak open. Kurt wondered if Moira had come back until he saw TJ's form peeking in. She closed the door behind her and quietly tiptoed in.

"Is she okay?" asked TJ, her eyes wide with unshed tears.

"Ja," Kurt answered.

"Is she gonna stay okay?"

"Ja TJ."

The little girl chewed her lip.

"Are they gonna put her in the ground?" she asked.

He started, feeling an unpleasant jolt going through his system.

"I don't want them to," said TJ, "My mommy's there. She'll hurt Amanda if they both go there."

He looked at her helplessly. TJ turned her attention back to Amanda.

"It's 'cause she likes me, Amanda. She was good to me," TJ explained, "So I know she won't get along with mommy. And I know that-"

Her eyes widened.

"What if my daddy's down there?" she shrieked suddenly, "You can't let them, they'll hurt her really bad and-"

"Nein," Kurt assured her, scooping her up into his arms, "Zey vill not hurt her. You haf my vord."

He swallowed hard as TJ wrapped her tail around his wrist.

"But...but..." TJ whispered.

"It's alright. And ve vill be vaiting vhen she vakes up," Kurt assured her, "I svear zat too."

* * *

><p>Moira got up stiffly walked out into the hall. Something had broken inside of her, hurt her so much. The only reason she could stay on her feet was that somewhere deep inside her she knew she had to. It was what allowed her to speak when she found Doug waiting for her in the hall.<p>

"What did Hank want?" he asked

"Charles is dead," she said.

Moira didn't even wait for the shocked look on his face. She continued walking out into the hall on her way to her room. Lorna, Alex, and Sean were standing there, discussing something. They turned when they saw her coming down the hall. Alex cleared his throat and stepped forward. He jerked his head towards Amanda's room.

"We heard she's stable-" he started.

"Charles is dead," she said.

His eyes widened and Moira pushed past him. She wasn't going to stop for anyone. When she finally reached her destination she locked the door behind her. Moira closed her eyes briefly and looked around the room. There was twenty years of clutter built up there, pictures of her family, her students, the life she had built.

Still feeling numb Moira got ready for bed. It was only when she got into bed that she let the reality of Hanks' words sink in, only then that she made the effort to banish the numbness. Her fear and anger hit her, her sadness and the utter despair that branched from a broken heart overtook her.

With a muffled sob Moira brought her legs to her chest. Her tears fell thick and fast then, soaking her pajamas and blurring her vision-

_"It doesn't show that you're weak," said Moira, "It just continues to prove how good you are, that you can admit to making mistakes and…it proves that you…"_

_She leaned down so her face was inches from his._

_"…you Charles Xavier, are the best man I've ever met."_

_Charles' arms snaked up hers. His grasp was soft and she waited, not sure what was going to happen next. Then he pulled her closer so that their lips crashed together. She gasped, giving him an opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. His hands moved behind her head, threading through her hair and pulling her closer._

_Memories came back, like there had been a veil over them that had been removed. She gasped at their return. Moira stumbled and practically fell into his lap. His hands were on her back and neck in an instant, caressing her skin and holding on like she was a lifeline. Once she had gotten over her surprise she twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back. When they finally pulled away her face was flushed, as was his. They stayed close though, his breath warm on her face._

_"They were always there…just hidden…" he panted, "I never did before because I wasn't completely sure…thought it would hurt more but..."_

_She kissed him lightly on the lips to silence him, much more chaste this time._

_"Thank you," Moira said, kissing him again, "Thank you so much."_

How, how from that kiss did they ever end here? How did they end with his death and her utter bereavement, his dream falling apart and their friends dying?

_His hand grasped hers in the Blackbird. Her side and foot ached. Her arms burned and every breath caused her pain. Hank had administered morphine but it wasn't enough. Moira knew the pain showed in her eyes. It was reflected on Charles' face as he clutched her hand in his. _

"_Don't worry sweetheart," he said, "You'll be fine."_

_Moira gave a half-smile. _

"_I am now," she whispered, squeezing his hand. _

Choking out another sob she curled up under the covers, the warm darkness surrounding her-

_She was lying in his arms for the first time, barely awake. Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck as his fingers ghosted over her shoulder. Charles had been careful not to aggravate her injuries, treating her like she was glass. At the same time he'd kissed every burn on her arms and shoulders, making her forget temporarily how blemished she felt by them._

_Moira realized then that she could spend the rest of her life like this. This was her future. It had lain with him and his dream of coexistence, not with the CIA. In that moment she was somehow thankful for her humiliation at her job, for the bridges she had burned. That road had somehow led her to him after all. _

Her wedding ring pushed into her hand, like it was mocking her, reminding her that she wasn't a wife anymore. No, she was a widow left in a world gone mad. Moira had thought that, no matter what, the two of them would always survive together. Instead she was being mocked with the harsh realities that she'd been given.

"_All you would have is-"_

_"You," she finished for him, "You asked me a question Charles and I gave you my answer. Nothing's going to change it; that's where I want to be in ten years. I can see it, can you?"_

_A single tear fell from his eye. Charles opened his eyes again and stared into hers._

_"Yes sweetheart, yes I can," he said, his voice low, "And that's why I think you should look at your hands."_

_Moira looked down. A diamond ring had been slipped onto her finger. Her hands had been so numb with cold that she hadn't noticed. She looked up at him._

_"So?" he asked._

_She reached up and kissed him. Charles' arms wrapped warmly around her. He held her close as the snow continued to fall around them_.

That ring was in her vanity, wasn't it? It had been so beautiful and she'd showed it to her parents. The memory just caused more pain but she wouldn't let go, could never let go-

'_Charles,' __Moira thought, '__You need to…Charles…'_

_She tried the exercises Charles had taught her to open her mind a little. Across from her saw a bawling infant being cleaned by two nurses._

_"It's a healthy little boy," said one._

_She picked up a blanket and wrapped its softness around his son. Very gently they settled him into Moira's arms. Despite her weakness she reached for him and stroked his small face with the tips of her fingers. Moira smiled at him and shifted so that Charles could get a better look at her son, their son._

_Tears ran down his cheeks and he gave a helpless smile._

'_I love you Moira,' __he thought, '__I love you so much.'_

'_I love you too Charles.' _

Her tears fell harder then and she dug her nails painfully into the flesh of her legs. Everything hurt now. She wanted it to go away, to undo the past hours. She wished she hadn't picked up the phone and that she'd missed Doug. Moira wished she could have just another hour without the knowledge she'd been given. It wouldn't make anything better but she didn't want to feel like she was breaking into pieces-

_"I am being reasonable," snapped Moira, tears in her eyes, "I want what you promised me on our wedding day, what every wife is promised; 'til death do us part'."_

_"It will part us much sooner if they think they can hurt me through you!"_

_"No," she said, "I promised. __**You **__promised!"_

_Charles grabbed her head he pulled her into a kiss. He broke down all the walls of his mind and showed her what he was afraid of. For the first time she saw the nightmares he'd had since Jason had come. He showed her the times he'd railed at himself; convinced that they should leave but hating himself for even thinking about sending them away._

_And then he showed her what she and David meant to him. He showed her how his dream of coexistence had changed into a dream where his son could live in a free world, where nothing threatened them. Charles let her see the pride he saw in everything she did, and let her see how much he loved her. How much it would destroy him if he lost either one of them._

_He separated, panting. He touched his forehead to hers, his hands on each side of her face. She felt so lost, like she had just seen something destroyed. _

_"Sweetheart," he said, "you know I'm right."_

_She opened her eyes, crying and clasping his wrists. Charles pulled her into a fierce embrace and she wished that she could stay there forever. She knew she couldn't though._

All of her decisions had taken them down that road, the one that she loathed and loved because all roads led to her family. She had lived separately from him because David needed to be protected. If they hadn't had to part then she wouldn't have married Charles Xavier, wouldn't have had his son.

Thier life had been no fairytale. There was so much they could have shared but didn't, so much that had slipped through thier fingers because of the lives they led-

_"You have no idea how hard this is for me!" Moira screamed. _

_"Do you think it's easy knowing my son is growing up on the other side of the world?" demanded Charles. _

_"Compared with what I have to go through?" Moira snapped, "You don't know what this feels like Charles; it feels like every day I'm losing everything, like it's drifting away from me. You don't know!"_

_"What do you think it feels like for me?"_

_"I don't know. From the way you've been acting you don't feel anything at all!" she'd shot back, "I've done three years of this Charles and I'll be damned if I do it for three more!"_

_She'd slammed the phone down then, crying. Rose had been there then, had been there to support her and help wipe her tears away. Moira had gone to bed that night crying, having had to hold in her emotions from her small son who slept down the hall. _

_When she'd dreamed she'd seen Charles there, knowing he was projecting through his dreams._

_"Please...I'm sorry," he begged, "Please don't leave me."_

_Moira had known then, looking at him, that she could never leave him. She told him that repeatedly as she took him into her arms, feeling him there even though he was so far away. _

Moira had stayed on Muir Island because of her work, still yearning to be closer to her family. It was needed to further their work, to bring stability to the lives of mutants everywhere. Yet, loving him had been paradoxical. Every second she had spent doing what needed to be done to preserve them as a whole and mutantkind stole time from the two of them together.

Now it was too late to tell him she loved him one last time, that she would always stay by his side, that she wouldn't trade their marriage for the world-

_In her dreams Charles wrapped his arms around her. He led her from the noisy pub that she had remembered for them into the study of the school, keeping her in his arms the whole time. He breathed against her neck and she felt shivers up and down her spine. His lips turned into a smile as he buried his face in her hair. _

"_How's David?" he asked. _

"_He's doing well," she said, "He's excelling in his classes. Fancy, a son of mine in college at thirteen. And…well, you know how his telepathy's doing."_

"_I do. I helped him with his Physics."_

"_I know. He told me."_

_Charles kissed her temple and she leaned back. _

"_He misses you Charles," she whispered, "__**I **__miss you."_

_He hesitated and brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. Turning her head his blue eyes bored into hers. _

"_You and him are everything to me," Charles said, "I love you both so much. I know this is hard on you. I haven't really given you anything in return but heartache."_

_Moira shook her head furiously. _

"_You've given me a son," she said, "And you've given me yourself. That's more than anyone could want."_

_Her lips met his and he'd kissed her fiercely, pausing only long enough to say;_

"_You'll always have me. Always."_

The remnant of a repressed scream tore from her throat as she continued to sob, her grief consuming her. 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Because of connection problems I'm not going to be able to post on Thursday through Saturday. I know that this is coming at a pretty huge plot point, but things will be back to normal after that. _


	30. Chapter 30

"We live in an age of darkness: a world full of fear, hate, and intolerance," Ororo said, her voice choked, "But in every age, there are those who fight against it. Charles Xavier was born into a world divided, a world he tried to heal…"

Alex looked off into the distance, his hands in his lap. He sat on the stage next to David, his throat clogged and his vision misty.

"…a mission he never saw accomplished," Ororo continued, "It seems it's the destiny of great men to see their goals unfulfilled. Charles was more than a leader, more than a teacher. He was a friend. When we were afraid, he gave us strength."

They were good words, Ororo's. It reminded him of how he'd felt when he'd first been offered the chance to be part of something greater. He didn't have to be alone anymore.

"When we were alone, he gave us a family."

Everything Alex had he owed to Charles. He'd met his wife at the Institute, saved his brother and put his life back together. He closed his eyes when he thought of Scott. Alex had been told that he'd lost his brother as well as his mentor just a few short hours ago. It was like the ground was crumbling under his feet.

"He may be gone, but his teachings live on through us, his students," she finished, "Wherever we may go, we must carry on his vision. And that is a vision of a world united."

Her eulogy over Ororo relinquished the podium. Alex got up then, everything dragging him down. Even his fingertips felt heavy. He could feel their eyes on him. On one side he saw Hank, Moira, and the current X-men. It was strange to see such a legacy carried on even while it was destroyed.

On the other side was Sean, Kurt, Rahne, Doug, and Lorna. Alex met his wife's eyes briefly before taking a deep breath. She knew how hard it was for him to do this and he wondered vaguely if it was too late to pass. Letting out the breath Alex started talking, realizing that he couldn't show that disrespect.

"In 1962 I first met Charles Xavier," he said, "I had no idea who he was, and all he knew about me was that I was a mutant and named Alexander Summers. Back then I was fifteen years old. And, to be perfectly honest, I was nothing. My gift was viewed as a curse by myself and everyone around me. I was lost and floundering in a destructive path."

He gulped in air.

"I lived in fear of myself, lashing out to try and hide that I thought something was wrong with me," said Alex, "The world was a strange place to be back then; no one really knew mutants existed. So what was I in my family's eyes, the eyes of the neighborhood? I was a monster who should be shunned, locked away and hidden from sight."

"And then he found me and offered me an opportunity. And that's what he did for all of us; gave us an opportunity. He opened doors when they'd been slammed in our faces our whole lives."

One of his hands gripped the side of the podium to steady himself.

"That First Class was a strange thing for all of us," he said, "We were all a little afraid of each other at first, I think. We didn't lock into place, it wasn't some fairytale. However, when the suspicion that we'd carried with us since manifesting our powers dropped we realized what we had been given. As soon as we realized that we knew we had to protect it."

Alex's thoughts drifted to a time when he had put on a yellow and blue jumpsuit and made a choice. It was, whether or not he admitted it at the time, the hardest thing he'd done in his life. He had decided to stop his loner act and be part of a team, to realize that it was only him against the world if he let it be.

"We all went through tumultuous times then," he said, "We were all put into the fire. But fire can refine as well as destroy. And if it hadn't refined him then I think it would have destroyed us all. He had a way with adversity, showing that we could become better, stronger, that we could pull through it no matter what. That was why I stayed on at his school. That was why I became a teacher there. That was why…"

His voice trailed off. Alex had written this part of the eulogy before he had found out that Scott was dead, that Ororo would be speaking as the leader of the X-men instead of his brother. The words died in his throat. Alex looked at Sean and Hank, Lorna and Moira. They gave him silent support in their looks and he plunged on.

"…that was why I brought my little brother to the school when he manifested his powers," he said, "Because it was safe, because I knew what the school had done for us. It was why I felt that there was no other place that I would rather call home and why shouldn't all of your family be at home? Because I had family there already, family in the friends I had made here. It's the same for many of you; this school was our home when we had nowhere else to go."

The hardest words he had to say yet over with he pushed to the end.

"When I first came to Westchester it felt like I had been found, that there was a sanctuary for me where I could go. This place, this dream of his, has been my life ever since that day when I was fifteen," he said, "That's what I remember about Charles Xavier, the fact that he reached out to a convict who hadn't known a good night's sleep in years and told him he could be something. He told us all that, and he was right."

"Like many of you his death has left me feeling lost again, like a door has been slammed and locked, the key thrown away. But believe me when I swear to you that Charles Xavier never closed a door in his life and I assure you he hasn't started in death. He was all about showing people their true potential, showing them-"

Alex's eyes closed briefly before opening them again. He looked over at Lorna, drawing strength from her supportive look.

"-that we were all more than we thought we were," said Alex, "And without him we never would have known."

His throat constricting he left the podium and sat down. Next to him David got up, his movements uneven.

* * *

><p>David felt like he was in hell. There was too much chaos in his head and ever since his father's death he'd had the worst headache he'd had in his life. Everything about him was jumbled up; he couldn't sleep and he'd lost his appetite. Dark circles had appeared under his eyes.<p>

He knew what caused it, at least he thought he did. He'd been in a person's head when they died or, in this case, were ripped apart atom by atom. He could still see it all in his nightmares, still feel the acute pain in his chest.

He'd talked to Kurt upon his arrival. His cousin had teleported to the funeral, arriving only an hour beforehand to wash the sand and sea salt out of his hair. He been distraught about leaving Amanda, but TJ was also a constant presence by her side, unwilling to let her go. Tragedy seemed to stalk their family now and David wondered when it would end.

"I know it will sound strange," he'd said, "But…my father and I…ever since I was a baby I've heard him in my head. I've held conversations with about physics while he was halfway around the world without a phone. And there's always been …this reassuring presence in my head."

Kurt had looked at him with pity, trying to contain his own grief. He'd felt his three-fingered hand on his shoulder.

"It shouldn't feel like this," said David, "My head should feel empty. I should **feel **that he's not there anymore damn it! It shouldn't feel like it's nothing!"

He wiped away tears.

"But I don't. It just feels like when he was captured by Stryker; like he's somewhere far away and inhibited is all," David said, "I…it feels like nothing's really changed but it has, everything's changed."

"Zometimez our hurt ist not as physical as ve vould vish it," Kurt said softly, "Ve feel zat ve can handle physical pain, just not ze mental pain. And so ve vish somezing vas hurting our flesh instead. Zat vay ve can externalize it."

"Maybe," said David miserably, "Maybe…"

Kurt had hesitated then.

"If you vant…you should not be alone at a time like zis," he said, his voice halting, "I vill…I vill stay if you vish."

He sighed and looked at his cousin, knowing what that offer was costing him.

"No, I…I know I can't stay here. Not for long…just long enough to sort a few things out," he said, "Like…my father left the running of the school to Ororo in his will but the foundation to me and my mother. He left you money you know...enough to set you up, that sort of thing."

Kurt blinked at him.

"I vas in his vill?" asked Kurt, sounding as though the idea shocked him.

"You're family," David said, "My father was all about family."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Ororo is a good choice and I need to confirm it. But after that… I think I'll come to Muir Island."

"I vill be zere," Kurt had said reassuringly.

David had nodded and let himself cry a little then. However, he couldn't do that on the podium in front of his father's colleagues, students, and friends. Instead he said;

"My name is David Xavier."

He had expected the muted gasps from around the assembled crowd. Most of them didn't know Charles Xavier had had a wife, let alone a son. It didn't matter.

"Everyone here knew what my father was; an extraordinary man. They say cometh the hour, cometh the man. The hour came and my father answered," David said, "But that hour never ended, did it? And he kept answering. He was the type of man who struggled because he wouldn't give up. It wasn't in his nature to be anything other than that."

David looked over at his mother. Tears were pooling in her eyes, eyes that had been almost emotionless since he had first seen her. Something had broken in her. However, it was Moira Xavier. She had the strength to get through this. Her strength was something he'd inherited, something that allowed him to stand and give his father's eulogy decades before he'd thought he'd have to.

"Life was never easy for him, no matter what people say," said David, "You see in life we're given two choices; the easy path of indifference and the hard path of caring. The right way is often the hardest and my father chose that one."

"And I know that all of us are scared right now, scared of a future where my father isn't there to balance forces, to know what to do like he always did. I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, that I can't help but mourn and feel a sense that things are coming to a close."

Taking a deep breath he continued.

"But they're not, and I know my father would want me to remember that. Once I asked him why he did what he did," David said, "I was seven then, not really capable of understanding his reply. However, he gave the question a good deal of thought and he gave me an answer that I could look back on and appreciate. He lived his life by this and encouraged his students and family to do the same."

There was a pause as he collected his words. Then he said;

"He told me that since the dawn of existence there have always been moments when the course of history shifted. He said that such a turning point was upon us now: the conflict between the better and worst angels of our very nature, whose outcome would change our world so greatly that there will be no going back."

His eyes scrunched in concentration, trying desperately to remember and not to break down as he remembered what his father had told him all those years ago. Strangely enough it wasn't that hard. David wondered why that was, if it was because he was just so upset that every word of his father went to the forefront of his mind. It was like something was guiding him.

"My father said that he didn't know if victory was possible," David said, "Only that he knew that great sacrifice would be required. And because the fate of many would depend on a few, we must make the last stand."

He looked up at the assembled and closed his eyes.

"My father made that stand, made that sacrifice," he said, "And because of that the fate of all of us was decided. By making that stand he taught us how to make our own in our daily lives. I thank him for that, for answering the question of a naïve little boy fourteen years ago, for everything else he taught me, and for everything he taught the world."

With another deep breath he walked down from the podium. There was nothing else to say.

* * *

><p>Moira knew she shouldn't be there. His wheelchair had been put in there, and even Ororo hadn't put a foot in there. However, the office had always been open to Moira. Now it felt strange to her, missing an element, forbidden. It was because she was forbidden in the first place that she knew she had to be in there. She wasn't going to leave it behind.<p>

Now that she had it though part of her didn't know why she bothered to stay there so long. The only reason she lingered was because she had a feeling. Her feelings had generally been right. Swallowing hard she walked to the large window at the back of the window. She could see the lawns where the attendees in black mulled around, talking in hushed windows. Moira could vaguely make out her son and nephew.

She took a deep breath.

"I know you're here," she said, "Don't hide."

Turning around she saw Erik standing behind her. The door was closed and he leaned up against the wall opposite from her.

"I should scream," said Moira.

"You're wearing a metal chain around your throat and that's the first thing you say to me?" he said.

The chain around her neck lifted and then stopped. A golden band was attached to the chain and she reached out to touch it.

"He didn't wear his so much," she said quietly, "Kept it in his desk on a chain...to wear secretly when he could. That's why I came in here in the first place."

The chain lowered but Moira knew the threat was still there.

"You all but dropped off the radar," he said, "We wondered."

"No, we're still married. There was…an…an incident. I left for…for the protection of me and his son," said Moira, "Although, in recent years it was more because of the lives we led."

Her eyes met his. She saw conflicting emotions there. Moira wondered what he saw in hers.

"Before you say anything," Erik said coldly, "It wasn't my fault. I told him to give up."

She laughed bitterly, turning back to the window. Apparently he'd seen an accusation. If only that was the case.

"I want to hate you," said Moira, "I want to hate **something **right now, lay the blame at its feet and try to feel something other than this hollow numbness."

Moira took a deep breath.

"But David told me what happened."

"How would he know?" Erik said harshly.

"Oh Erik," Moira said, "Imagine two telepaths separated by a great distance, father and son. Can you imagine the mental link that would be there? Always in each other's head slightly…feeling joy and panic…pain…and David can remote view."

There was silence then and Moira wondered if Erik had left. He was very good at that.

"He spoke well," said Erik finally.

"He did, didn't he?" Moira said absently.

She pressed one of her hands against the glass. There was another silence, this one lasting longer than the one before. This time though she could tell that he hadn't left.

"You won't win you know."

The words left her lips before she knew that they had.

"I'm already winning Moira."

"Right now, maybe," continued Moira, "But you won't. Not enough mutants will rally to your banner. Many, but not anywhere near all. There's too many people like me."

"Humans?" he snorted derisively.

"No," Moira said, "Mothers. Women who married one mutant and birthed another. Women like Maeve and Carly. Even women like Amanda."

"Who?" he asked, his voice harsh.

"Of course, her name wasn't released to the media," she said softly, "Amanda's the name of the student who risked her life to save your grandchildren. She's in a coma now."

She heard him take in a sharp breath but she pushed on.

"Fathers too," continued Moira, "Friends, brothers and sisters. Some mutants have been locked away and abused but that doesn't mean that their faith has been destroyed. It doesn't mean that they hate the world because they've known others who have taken them in. There are too many mutants-"

Moira had a feeling she'd be hurt for her next words and she swallowed.

"-too many mutants like your daughter who were protected by humans," Moira said, "Who took them in and loved them no matter the risk."

The chain lifted around her neck and for a minute Moira wondered if this was it. Instead the chain fell limply against her throat.

"They attacked them in the street," Erik said, "A world that makes people like that should be put in new hands. Whether you like it or not I'm going to make this world safe for mutants."

"Believe what you want Erik," said Moira quietly, "You can tell yourself as many times as you want that the ends justify the means. It won't bring Charles back."

Silence descended again and Moira heard footsteps. Knowing she was finally alone she covered her face with her hands, pushing her tears behind her eyelids. 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_The quote that David uses was supposed to be the prologue for the third movie. I thought it was especially pertinent to the occasion so I used it. In many funerals more than one eulogy is given, especially if it's a huge affair. Charles' funeral in the third movie was pretty big so I thought three would do. Since Ororo leads the X-Men and Alex became the leader of the X-Force in the past few fics I thought they would work. I thought including David, since he's Charles' son, would round things out well. _


	31. Chapter 31

"To all mutants out there I give you a simple choice; join me or stay out of my way."

David looked at the screen and clicked the TV off. His mother sat next to him, looking tired. He wished she hald gone back to Muir Island with Kurt. However, it wasn't in her nature to leave when trouble was coming. He often suspected that that was what had attracted his father to her in the first place.

"Sonuvabitch," Sean said.

Out of the corner of his eye David looked to where Lorna was. She leaned against the wall, her arms wrapped tightly around her. She met his eyes briefly before looking away.

"He's doing it," said Sean, "He's doing it anyway."

"He hasn't let anything stop him in the past. Why should he let this?" asked Alex, his fist clenching.

Ororo nodded from her place near Hank who said;

"We need to do something. We're still the last line of defense, whether the government knows it or not."

"Who do we have?" asked Sean, "Besides the X-Force?"

"You have me for one," Hank said.

The room quieted.

"I thought you gave up on fighting," Sean said, "You haven't fought anyone since-"

"Since I fought the Friends of Humanity for Carly. I'm aware," said Hank, "But I'm coming out of retirement for this."

"Good for you Uncle Hank," David said.

Hank smiled wryly.

"Who else Ororo?" he asked.

"Myself and three teenagers," Ororo said dryly, "With the exception of Piotr none of them have ever actually been in a battle before and he's never been up against mutants. They all just started training."

"Three? I thought there were four?" frowned Lorna.

"One skipped off to take the cure," Alex snapped.

David felt a headache coming on.

"What about Logan?" tried Sean, "I mean, he's an asshole but he's good in a fight."

"He took off after Jean," said Ororo.

Hank shook his head.

"I fear that's a losing battle."

"Oh really?" asked Alex sarcastically, "What tipped you off?"

"I was just sayimg-" started Hank.

"Whatever the hell that thing is anymore it's not Jean," interrupted Alex, "She wouldn't kill Scott."

"Calm down everyone," David said, "Mom, have you heard anything from Rahne?"

"She's coming. SHIELD let her off for this," Moira said, "Doug's fortifying Muir Island just in case there's another attack. We need at least one X-Man to hold the fort."

"Alright. Ten of us against an army," Lorna said, "And we're going to have to watch the backs of three of us."

"Seven could work, would at least make a powerful statement," said Hank, "But we can't just waltz up to Alcatraz. They nearly wouldn't let **me** in, and I was a cabinet member."

"I can imagine how it would look," Mora said grimly, "A whole bunch of mutants politely knocking and asking to be let in. They wouldn't even let me have the manifest, and Amanda hasn't woken up yet."

David remembered his mother screaming at Worthington Industries, one of the few times he had ever seen her lose her temper. However, now that The Cure was a National Security issue she was having a hard time talking to anyone at all. He had a few ideas about that, ideas he was planning on exploring later.

"You always did have a way of putting things," David said, "But we'd have ten if we're willing to use the teens. I think we should use them."

"We'll have to be," said Lorna, "Besides, who are we to tell them it's a bad idea? I fought my first battle when I was seventeen. The rest of you were fifteen, all except Hank. Even David was fighting when he was sixteen."

He nodded in acknowledgement.

"She's right, besides, we need them. We need everyone we can get."

Lorna hesitated and then said;

"How about Kurt?"

Moira shook her head. David felt the strain pressing down on him. Warmth filled his nose and he knew it was starting to bleed. Discreetly he pinched his nose to block the flow.

"I don't think he'll leave Amanda," Moira said, "And he's a pacifist-"

"Jesus," muttered Alex.

"Besides, he's never been in a real fight either," Moira said, giving Alex a hard look, "unless you can count mind control."

"I'm willing to count thumb wars at this point," growled Alex.

"Calm down-" David tried.

"Don't you tell me to calm down again!" Alex snapped, getting up, "We are in deep shit, do you understand that? And this time we don't even have the Professor!"

David gave him a hard look.

"Thank you for reminding me," he said, "I fear I may have forgotten."

With another growl Alex turned on his heel and headed towards the door. Lorna put a hand on his shoulder but he jerked it off as he stormed out of the room. Looking hurt she turned to the rest of the room. When she spoke her words were halted, broken things. David couldn't blame her.

"He's…he's been under a lot of stress lately," she said, "First our children got attacked, then the Professor, then Scott, and now…"

She sighed.

"There are a lot of things going on."

Still feeling angry David nodded. He wondered when Lorna was going to acknowledge that a lot was happening to her as well. Slowly Lorna detached herself from the wall.

"I'm going to go check on my kids," she said, "And…I'll see how Alex is doing." 

* * *

><p>Alex punched in the numbers on the phone, his hand gripping the edge of the table tightly. Erik had given his ultimatum and Charles wasn't even cold in the ground. It made him hate Erik, feeling the rage bubble up inside him. He'd had to do several breathing exercises just so he wouldn't start blasting things because of his father-in-law.<p>

His mind went to his children, together in a guest room upstairs. Will had a lightly sprained wrist and there was a bruise above Tom's eye. Luna was with them because they couldn't seperate them, too young to understand what was happening. His sons were all over the news now, their images the epitome of the hatred shown towards mutants. Their chaperone was in the hospital, the epitome of the sacrifices people made to the greater good.

It was horrible and he wanted people to die for it. He wanted to feel anything other than helpless, a feeling he hated to his core. Now he was doing something he hated too, something that made his head hurt and put his teeth on edge. It had to be done though. On the other end he heard the phone ring.

"Pick up you sonuvabitch," he muttered.

There was a click on the other end.

"This is secretary-"

"I know," Alex said, "Tell your boss that Alex is on the phone. He'll know who I am. And tell him it's important."

He could feel the secretary's irritation at his manner but he didn't have time for it. Tapping his fingers on the table he waited for a few minutes.

"Alex?"

"Yeah, it's me," said Alex coldly.

"After all of these years…why are you calling?"

"I'm wondering that too," Alex said, "I swore I'd never speak to you again after I told you I got engaged. You don't deserve to know this but I'm letting you know anyway; Scott's dead."

The words felt like bile in his throat. On the other side of the phone Air Force General Christopher Summers took a sharp breath in.

"When did-?"

"A few days ago," said Alex.

"How-?"

"We're looking into it," Alex said shortly, "Just thought you might want to know."

He started to pull the phone away from his ear.

"Wait!"

Alex stopped.

"What?" he snapped.

"I…I heard about Charles Xavier-"

"You and the rest of the world," snarled Alex.

"Listen, I know you hate me-"

"Good."

"-but…I know what's going on with The Cure, about the terrorist's announcement," he said, "And I want you to know, if there's anything I can do-"

"Don't you dare try to bribe me," snapped Alex.

"I'm not…I'm just…"

Christopher sighed.

"I'm just offering."

Gritting his teeth Alex hung up. He didn't want to listen to his father anymore, didn't want to think about anything at all. 

* * *

><p>Lorna put her hand against the door to the guest bedroom that Ororo had arranged for her and her husband. She'd just been to the showers, the hot water doing little to relieve the tension in her muscles. She felt her heart thudding against her ribcage furiously, reminding her that her father had now officially declared war against humanity. Closing her eyes briefly she opened the door and walked inside.<p>

Alex was lying on the bed above the covers, his eyes staring at the ceiling. His shirt was off and he was wearing sweatpants. She had the feeling that he'd been there for a long time. Sighing she slipped next to him. Immediately he took her hand but didn't look at her. There was something far away in his eyes.

"My brother and my mentor died in the same week," he said suddenly, "And the world goes to hell. Funny, isn't it?"

Lorna stayed silent.

"I hadn't talked to him in **months**," Alex said.

She looked at him and saw that his eyes had closed, tears gathering there. Throughout their long relationship Lorna had seen him cry only three times before. Once was when they were teenagers, holding each other in the kitchen after Alex had run away to the school. The other two times were when his children were put in his arms for the first time.

Each time had been a turning point in his life. Lorna knew that much. He had become a stronger person for what had happened with his parents, although Lorna would never fully give up hope that they might one day reconcile. It was foolish, she knew, but perhaps it was simply the fact that her father was beyond her that she projected that on her husband. He still had a slender chance.

When he was given children he became a father. He played baseball and read stories. It had made him take less risks, softened some of his remaining rough edges. It had strengthened their marriage as well and, though there had been hard times, they had become a team in a different sense then they were used to.

Moving his arm she saw the scars that Martinique had put into him so long ago. Her fingers traced the three marks in his chest. She looked at him with sad eyes.

"You did what you could," she said.

"I should have-"

"You did what you could," repeated Lorna.

His hands gripped her shoulders and he looked into her eyes. Whatever he found there made him say;

"So did you."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Your father," Alex said, "You couldn't have stopped him. You still can't."

Her head turned away.

"Alex, I don't-"

"I know how you think. You care about him because…because that's how you are. And yeah, I think he cares about you too," said Alex, "But going to him and begging him to stop isn't going to work."

"I wasn't going to-"

"You considered it though."

Lorna closed her eyes.

"Briefly."

"He won't listen."

"Alex, you don't…" started Lorna miserably.

"I love you Lorna," he said, "But you know what's going to happen next just as well as I do, don't you?"

She nodded.

"We fight," Lorna said, "We fight for our children, for our way of life, for everything that we have. Sometimes I think we've been fighting all our life."

"Yeah," said Alex, "Yeah."

His hand entwined with hers, their wedding rings clicking together. Leaning down Lorna kissed him, letting her tongue slide between his lips. He moaned briefly and his hand curled around the back of her neck. Gently he pulled her down onto him, her green hair falling like a curtain to shield them briefly from the world around them.


	32. Chapter 32

Kurt sighed and brushed a few hairs that had blown onto Amanda's face. She hadn't stirred for nearly three days and had shown no signs of waking. No one quite knew what it was that the Cure had done to her, only that her organs had begun to shut down and she'd slipped into a coma. It wasn't enough to save her apparently.

Kurt looked down at her. There was no life on her face; it was like someone had taken his beautiful angel and replaced her with an empty shell. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair. Yet, what had been right or fair about the past week?

Her family had been on its way but the airports had been blocked due to the national security lockdown. It was wrong that Magneto's war was preventing a family from visiting thier daughter whose life hung in the balance.

On top of that he remembered the request that his cousin had sent him telepathically a few minutes ago, pleading for him to come to Westchester and help them with the oncoming battle. While it was against his morals to fight he knew that his cousin needed his help. Yet, how could he abandon Amanda?

Kurt leaned on Amanda's bed rail for support. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his heart rate. One of his hands turned into a fist and landed on the side table. A metallic clicking made him open his eyes.

A few of Amanda's personal possessions had been put on the side table. Her heart locket was there. It had had to be taken off when they'd put in the IV's and fitted a breathing mask on her. He let one of his trembling hands pick it up and, with even more care, he opened it and looked inside.

The picture of her and her family still resided on one said. On the other was a carefully cut picture of him. His heart ached.

"Everything okay?" yawned TJ.

Turning he looked to the left of the bed. In the armchair by her bed TJ lay, a blanket around her and her tail curled beneath her. TJ had been his constant companion in his vigil. Together they had talked to Amanda, played music and read aloud. Supposedly that was supposed to help people in comas.

"Ja."

She stared at Amanda, her eyes heavy with sleep. Kurt swallowed hard, knowing what he had to do and hating it.

"TJ...I haf to go someplace," he said.

Her eyes widened and she slid out of her armchair. TJ's head cocked to one side.

"But...but she's not awake yet," she protested weakly.

"I know TJ, I know," sighed Kurt, "But...vell..."

A flicker of understanding appeared in TJ's big eyes.

"Is this about Al-ca-traz?"

Kurt stared at her in surprise.

"I heard Mr. Ramsey talk about it," she said, "And it's about those mean people at Lincross too, right?"

Mutely Kurt nodded. TJ looked at her toes, clenching and unclenching them.

"I'm not a princess," said TJ abruptly.

Her eyes met his surprised ones.

"I don't know that I'm not all the time," said TJ, "But...when I do...those mean people are going to come back if you don't go to Al-ca-traz, right?"

Although he didn't say anything TJ must have seen the answer in his eyes. She nodded to herself.

"You know...I'm not sure if there are any princesses...not like I think of them anyway," said TJ softly, "But...there are heroes. And you're one of them. And heroes have to make tough choices sometimes, right?"

She looked up at him with her dark eyes that, in her six years, had seen more evil than he would probably see for the rest of his life. Yet, somehow she was still an innocent, still unbroken. Without a word Kurt sank to his knees and hugged her tightly.

* * *

><p>The X-Men walked out to the Blackbird, Hank still itching at his old uniform. He couldn't believe that he had been able to zip it up once. If this was what his uniform felt like from when he was twenty five then he couldn't imagine what his old yellow and blue jumpsuit would feel like if he tried it on again.<p>

Tugging uselessly on the sleeves he felt the absence of his wedding ring keenly. He hadn't wanted to wear it into battle, to risk losing it. Still, its presence had reassured him. His claws stopped scrabbling with his sleeve as he thought back to his wife who was hopefully still safe in Washington.

He had called her half an hour earlier to tell her what was happening. Carly had sounded scared and, if he was honest, he was too.

"You'll come back to me, won't you?" she'd asked.

"I'll always come back," said Hank, "Besides, you know me. I'm equipped for fighting. I'll be fine Carly."

He'd heard her sigh and he could tell she was biting her lip like she always did when she was worried.

"Until I come back," he said softly, "Carry my love with you always."

It was a familiar parting for them, one he had coined many years ago at the beginning of their relationship. Her reply was familiar as well.

"I always do."

His mind snapped back to the presence as he realized that Logan had started talking.

"We're not many. We can cover the front," said Logan, "But even then we're still leavin' the back of the base open to attack."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Hank said, "We have it covered."

He turned his head and shouted;

"Hurry up will you?"

The X-Men turned and Hank smiled. Alex was walking out to the courtyard, followed closely by Rahne, Sean, Lorna, Kurt, and David. All of them were dressed in the uniform that he'd crafted for the X-Force, black with a red 'X' that started at the neck and joined in the back. It was a long way from his original yellow and blue jumpsuits, but he felt it was an improvement and not just in the protection department. The colors were more coordinated.

"And you are?" asked Logan.

"I'm so sad you don't remember us," Alex said sarcastically, "We're the X-Force. I'm Havok. Cosmic radiation."

He tapped his chest plate as a red glow gathered there. Alex met Logan's gaze and tilted his head defiantly.

"Otherwise known as Alexander Summers," said Alex, "I believe you knew my brother."

The eyes of the teens in the back widened and Logan looked to the side for a second. Lorna stepped beside Alex.

"I'm Lorna Summers or Polaris. I'm a metal-bender."

Prompted by her Sean stepped forward.

"Banshee or Sean Cassidy. Sonic screams. When I tell you to cover your ears you should listen."

"Tell me about it," Rahne said, "I'm Rahne MacTaggert, codename Wolfsbane. Feral shapeshifter."

"Legion," added David, "Telepath. And most of you know Nightcrawler."

David put a hand on his cousin's shoulder. As he did Hank frowned. He'd noticed that in the belt of Kurt's uniform a rosary had been looped. Near to it a heart locket had been attached. Hank didn't know why it was there but he could tell it meant something.

Behind him some of the teens were looking nervous. They knew who David was; he had spoken at Charles' funeral after all. Logan's lack of a reaction corroborated with the fact that he hadn't been there. Still, there would be time for more introductions later.

"Nice to see you elf," Logan said, "Thought you were some sort of pacifist?"

"Zere ist a time for eferyzing," said Kurt stiffly.

Logan cracked his neck and stared at them. David met his gaze evenly.

"We're your rear guard," David said.

Hank saw Logan looking over them appraisingly. Coughing Hank said;

"Our mission at Alcatraz is two fold. First and foremost we have to stop Magneto. Yet...we also need to retrieve a list of the chemical components for The Cure."

Next to him Logan made a face.

"Why the hell would we want that?"

"It...concerns a patient," Hank said haltingly.

Across from him he saw the eyes of the X-Force slide over to Kurt. He'd stiffened visibly. Logan's mouth opened put Hank but a hand on his shoulder.

"You do **not **want to get into this. Trust me."

Although Logan was obviously irritated he remained mercifully silent.

"I've had a word with one of our students to make it as legal as possible," Hank continued, "I wouldn't have suggested this otherwise."

He looked at the corner of his eye and motioned with his hand. Warren stepped out of the shadows, looking scared. David's eyes narrowed and Kurt's level of discomfort increased.

"How'd The Cure work out for you Warren?" asked David, his voice barbed.

Warren shook his head.

"I...I didn't take it."

David's eyebrows raised.

"Figured you'd be the first in line," he said, "Are you biding your time or-"

"I couldn't take it!" snapped Warren, "The time came and I couldn't do it! Now my father made a mess of everything because he thought it was the right thing to do. And it wasn't. But right now I'm trying to fix the damage because Amanda sure as hell didn't deserve this. So the least you can do is shut up about it!"

An awkward silence descended on the group. After a few moments David cleared his throat.

"Hank once told me people often surprise you," he said, "I think I was wrong about you. I'd be honored to have you along."

"Likevise," said Kurt, his tail moving behind him, "For Amanda, ja?"

He held out a three fingered hand. Warren took it and gave it a firm shake before letting go.

"Anyone want to tell me what the hell that was about?" asked Logan.

"Nope," Alex said stiffly, "No need. Now let's get going."

He looked over at David.

"Time we we make **our** stand," said Alex.

Logan looked at Ororo, a question in his eyes.

"Wolfsbane fought with me when I was no older than Kitty," said Ororo, "The rest of them, with the exception of Legion and Nightcrawler, were my teachers at one point. And I happen to know that those two are more than competent in battle. Warren is a risk, but one we have to take. We need them."

He nodded.

"Alright," he said, "But we shouldn't split up the teams. I'm not used to fightin' with any of you."

"Likewise," said David, "Shall we?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_The uniforms described for the X-Force are based on Nightcrawler's original costume design. I just love the look of the 'X'. Also, having Warren go with them in the Blackbird for a non-combative purpose was the only way I could see him getting there at all. In the movie you see him staring at them and then the next time you see him he's saving his father. What did he do? Stowed away? The Blackbird doesn't have a lot of space for that. Did he follow the jet all the way to California with only his wings? Maybe but I find that unlikely. That's practically flying from one coast to another. Just another X3 plot hole. _


	33. Chapter 33

Erik watched indulgently as the soldiers fired at his army. Pathetic.

"Humans and their guns," he said.

Turning his hands upwards he tried to pull their guns out of their hands. He frowned in a mixture of irritation and surprise.

"Plastic," he said, "They've learnt."

He inclined his head to the Juggernaut.

"This is why in chess the pawns go first," he explained.

With barely a bat of his eye he ordered a shockwave. It worked; scattering the soldiers and forcing the weapons out of their hands. He'd never had a doubt. The powers of one mutant were worth the firepower of thirty humans. It was why they were going to win. The humans had, after all, just lost their greatest weapons.

He smiled as his army surged forward. The smile died on his lips as a jet screamed overhead, landing on the roof of the facility. Seconds later he saw the X-Men jump down, standing in a line and regrouping the soldiers into some semblance to order. An anger twisted up in him as he'd seldom felt before.

"Traitors to their own kind," he snarled.

Erik's eyes flickered back to the Blackbird. To his surprise he saw others exit the plane and head towards the back of the facility. He cursed silently. They had sent several of the mutants with aquatic abilities or powers of flight that way to surround the facility on all sides. So far the attack had gone relatively unnoticed. Now they were being cut off.

Still, there weren't that many of Charles' pets going that way. His army still outnumbered them even if they were more seasoned. He counted them as they ran across the rooftop towards the back of the facility. There were seven of them and before his eyes three of them were teleported away, leaving four. He felt sure that his army could handle them easily. If not he could go back there when things were over and-

A flash of green caught his attention. For a moment his heart stuttered in his throat as he saw his daughter among them. Why was she there? How could she bring herself to defend the filth on that Island? Had Charles' teaching gone that deep? No, it couldn't have. He must have made a mistake.

However, he saw her next to a figure he recognized as Sean before she disappeared over the side of the building. How could she be on their side after what happened to her children? Didn't she understand that he was doing this for her, for the grandchildren who had nearly been 'cured' in Lincross? How could she still be with the X-men after everything?

_He glared up at the sky, his face contorted._

_"So this is where you stand?" asked Erik, "Protecting those that fear you?"_

_Lorna nodded. _

Yes, her greatest fault was her faith. It was one of the things that made him fight all the harder. She didn't understand. He hoped that that night would change her mind. Lorna would have to understand the new world he was making; it was the only way she could find her place in it.

* * *

><p>Azazel looked over the young girl in the hospital bed. The little blue girl was a sound sleeper and he was quiet, allowing him to observe his son's love unnoticed. When he looked at her he saw nothing particularly special. She was pretty, but not in a spectacular way. Amanda wasn't the epitome of beauty by any standards. Nothing about her seemed to shine in any way at all.<p>

It was why he'd been curious about her. To anyone she might not seem perfect, but to Kurt she was. His son had seen something in the girl that he thought was better than him. It was why he had agonized over his own appearance, his perceived imperfections before allowing himself to be with this girl.

Finally he'd decided to make his appearance to clear matters up. And, sure enough, he'd seen it when he met her. She was full of light, not flinching when a man who looked like the Devil himself teleported in front of her in a cloud of smoke. Amanda accepted people and, in his own way, Azazel could appreciate that.

Personally Azazel had never been drawn to light. It was why he had first approached Mystique. She'd had a darkness in her that had made him look at her admiringly. Light had still been coming from her when he'd first met her but he'd seen that smothered by her own will. It had seemed intoxicating to him, a siren's call drawing him in until it was too late.

It was one of the reasons he'd never been particularly attracted to Emma. She was beautiful, sure enough. However, she'd taken a layer of darkness and used it to hide her light. Shaw might not have seen it but Azazel had. It was curious to him; that someone could have all of that buried and consciously hide it. Emma recognized that it was detrimental to her, but somehow she couldn't quite get rid of it.

Tilting his head Azazel twisted one of the cords hooked up to Amanda in his finger. Why The Cure had done this to her he had no idea. It was something that was made to affect mutants, not humans. Deep inside he felt insulted by The Cure and had briefly considered joining up with the Brotherhood once again. He'd decided against it in the end; his hate for Magneto and Mystique was still too strong.

The idea of his son remaining behind as a coward made him roll his eyes though. It was **touching** to see his loyalty to the woman he loved but he did need to take arms in this case. He had realized what needed to be done in the end though. Azazel had felt a flicker of pride as he'd watched Kurt teleport away from Muir Island. That was his son and he had no doubt that he'd survive the night.

He untangled his finger from the cord and stepped back. Kurt was growing up to be everything Azazel wished he would be, although he was still somewhat odd. It didn't matter to Azazel if he was with the X-Men or the Brotherhood though, just as long as he wasn't some stay-at-home who twiddled their thumbs. From the look in his golden eyes when he'd left Azazel could tell that he was anything but.

Giving a final glance at Amanda he smirked. A stand was being made in California as his son fought the forces of his most hated foe. Normally the world could hang for all he cared but he knew that tonight a battle was coming and his son was on the winning side. After all, Azazel had never been one for losing. He had a feeling that that had transferred onto his son.

"And when he fights I do not think he will stop," he said conversationally to Amanda, "A warrior. Just what I wanted. And I have you to thank for that, at least in part. His dvojurodny brat is another to thank."

He made a face as he said the world. He still didn't like Mystique's family.

"He knows now, see," said Azazel, "Knows if Magneto wins, what world would a comatose human have? I do not think he has idea of how much it costs to keep you alive, a cost the island will gladly take. But he knows in a world where humans are worth nothing you will not last. No, perhas you last a little while; you did save **Magneto's** grandchildren. But not that long."

He spat out Magneto's name before continuing.

"Maybe your family will try to protect you," said Azazel, "But they are humans. Even Moira is human. They will not have chance. And how long will Kurt or his dvojurodny brat last if you try to help? How about the crazy goluboy devochka in the chair? Magneto may interfere; marginally. David is Charles' son, but you know what happened to Charles. Oh no, you were asleep. Does not matter. In no time at all it will be gone, like that."

He snapped his fingers.

"So he knows to fight or say dasvidania to everything he has," Azazel said.

Azazel threw his head back and laughed, not loud enough to wake TJ though.

"Things are changing, no doubt," he continued, "What way? Who knows?"

Feeling smug he let his smirk return.

"Be we will find out tonight, will we not devochka?"

* * *

><p>David flung his arm out, sending two of his would be assailants flying. Another grabbed his arm and he twisted it away from them, punching them in the face. Across from him a cloud of black smoke appeared by one man, teleporting him away. David didn't know where Kurt was putting these people; probably in the ocean from the way he was dripping.<p>

Something had happened; somehow Magneto's army had entered the facility. They had to fight every inch of the way. Even Warren was flinging his fists out and was, surprisingly, doing a pretty good job. Every second his estimation of Warren was changing. He'd have to recommend him for X-Men training later to Ororo. He had the necessary inner fire.

Together they traversed through the halls and into one of the side labs. Warren sat down immediately at a computer and began putting in furious keystrokes. David felt the seconds ticking away from them. Every minute they spent doing this was another minute they had lost helping his family.

After an agonizingly long time the list printed out. David picked it up and handed it to Kurt. He folded the papers up and slipped them into an inside pocket of his uniform.

"Danke," he said, looking at Warren.

Looking tired Warren got up.

"Glad to be able to do something," he said.

David nodded before saying;

"When we get to the roof you need to get into the jet. Stay where it's safe."

Warren shook his head.

"I'm going to find my father. He might be an idiot but I've got to get him out of here," he said.

Although David ached to get outside and join what was left of **his **family he swallowed his feelings and said;

"If you need help-"

"No thanks," Warren said, "I think I got this. But..."

He gave him a half smile.

"Thanks for offering."

Without another word he ran out of the room. David exchanged a glance with Kurt.

"I think he'll be fine," David said, "We need to get outside."

Kurt grabbed David's shoulder and, in a cloud of smoke, they were standing with the rest of the X-Force. As David regained his bearings he saw someone coming up behind Sean. He threw them into the wall and punched another mutant that was coming close to him.

With a swipe of his tail Kurt threw another mutant to the ground before teleporting away. David kicked another assailant in the stomach as a red beam cut through the crowds, putting down several of the approaching mutants. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air and David struggled not to gag. He'd never been this exposed to the way Alex fought, taking no prisoners and letting nothing stand in his way. It was intimidating in ways he could barely describe.

"Fish!"

He flung his hands over his ears at the code word just as Sean let out a high pitched scream in his direction. Several mutants dropped to their knees and David concentrated. They were thrown back to the beach and David tentatively took his hands off his ears. Sean's scream had stopped, allowing him to get back to work.

Other mutants were flying and shouts were thick in the air. From the growls he heard he knew that Rahne was in the thick of it in her wolf form. Clouds of black smoke were appearing and disappearing all around him. Metal beams were also flying in the air, knocking mutants off their feet. It was comforting to know that they had his back. The rear guard of Magneto's army was rapidly thinning out but there seemed to be no end to their reinforcements.

He winced before concentrating on a group of mutants and making them pass out. A headache had also been plaguing him ever since they had landed. He knew that it was caused by Jean's very presence on the other side of the Island. Part of him ached to go over there and challenge her. She had killed his father for nothing more than trying to help her. However, she was more powerful and he knew it would do no good to get himself killed. His mother had already lost her husband. She wasn't going to lose a child too if he could help it.

Truthfully David didn't know what they were going to do about Jean. He didn't know how they were going to end it. From the way he saw it it could only end in her death. He regretted it to some extent; he'd had some contact with her when she was together. However, everyone knew that this was the only option. He'd seen it in the expressions of his aunt and uncles, in the sadness on Rahne and Ororo's faces. Perhaps the only ones who didn't know it were Logan, Kurt, and the young teens. It was only ignorance on the part of Kurt and the teens but it was out and out denial in Logan's.

It might be best that way. After all, there must be other options somewhere. He just wondered if they would have the time and the opportunity to implement them. David shook himself out of the mind set and continued to fight. There was a battle being fought there and then. There were soldiers that they needed to reinforce and an army they needed to hold back. He could worry about Jean later.

Seeing a slight opening Alex shouted to David;

"How are the others doing?"

David kicked an attacker out of the way, sending sweat trickling into his eyes.

"Not the best time to be asking these questions!" he shouted, "I can't remote view while I'm trying to protect myself!"

Grunting Alex fought so he was standing next to him.

"Nightcrawler!" shouted Alex, "Get over here now!"

Although there was a good deal of noise and chaos Kurt managed to hear. He teleported next to them.

"I'll cover you," said Alex, "Get Legion to that tower and make sure nothing happens to him. And Legion, you tell me what's going on!"

"You do not haf to ask me tvice," said Kurt.

Grabbing David's arm he teleported David to one of the few remaining observation towers. Once there David closed his eyes and put a hand to his temples.

_On the other side of the Island a man crashed through the walls of the facility, going straight through. _

"_He's going for the boy!" Hank yelled_

_"__Not if I get there first!" Shadowcat shot back. _

_Without another word she ran after him, phasing through the walls. Hank looked after her only to be surprised by a flaming car that nearly hit him. He jumped out of the way and took refuge behind a pile of rubble. More cars filled the air and the rest of the X-men were forced to find cover under the heavy fire. _

David sought out Alex's mind among the many below him, finding it quickly because of the familiarity.

_Shadowcat's going for the boy_, thought David, _Magneto's got the rest of the X-men trapped. Sending these cars at them…the cars are on fire for some reason..._

For a moment he felt Alex's indecision in the mental link. It took him a minute to realize what caused it. Logically the best thing to do was to send Lorna to try and stop Magneto's attack. Magneto was stronger than Lorna but she could hold them off long enough to allow the others to come to their rescue.

However, outright fighting her father would likely hurt Lorna beyond repair. It was an unspoken rule that they were never supposed to put themselves in a situation where they would fight. As a team leader Alex should send her. As a husband David knew he would never allow it. As his thoughts hardened David knew his decision and, despite everything, agreed with it.

_Can they hold on until Sean or I get there? _he thought.

_I think so, _David said, _I need to- _

An explosion ripped through the air. The tower began to sway. Kurt grabbed his shoulders and the two disappeared just as the tower crashed to the ground. Opening his eyes David found himself in another tower. He looked up at Kurt and gave him a weak smile.

"Thanks," he said.

"Any time lieber vetter."

Concentrating again he directed his attention to the X-men.

_Logan had fallen at Erik's feet, looking up at him and grinning. Behind Magneto Hank leapt up and stabbed him in the right shoulder. It took David a second to realize that they had given him The Cure. Despite himself David nearly cried out with relief as Magneto sank to his knees. _

"_I'm…I'm…" he stammered, looking horrified. _

"_One of them?" smirked Logan. _

_It's over_, he thought to Alex, _It's over, they gave him The Cure Alex._

The answer took a little time to come. When it did it sounded tired.

_It was the only way. Now if we could somehow manage to broadcast that…but then again, we're only fighting the dregs here. _

_True, _David thought back, _Kurt and I will be down in a minute-_

Waves lifted up around him, filling the air with droplets of water. The whole island felt like it was being turned on its axis. David's headache intensified and Kurt put out a hand to steady him. Objects flew aimlessly but powerfully in the air, crashing against each other or dissolving into particles.

He put a hand to his forehead again and concentrated.

_It was much more painful to look at the area than before. He saw Jean standing in the midst of everything, her eyes soulless and…bored? Or was it amused? David couldn't tell. All he knew was that she was causing it and he saw that same deadly intent in her eyes from when she had killed his father. She was going to take the island apart and God only knew what else. _

_Alex, _he thought, _You need to start evacuating everyone as quickly as possible. I don't care what it takes, you need to get everyone out of here __**NOW**__!_

Down below he could vaguely see that Alex was following his instructions. David tried to get to his feet but another wave of pain sent him to his knees. Once again Kurt attempted to steady him but even the slightest motion made his head scream. Jean was projecting too much, it felt like she was everywhere, stabbing into his mind.

"You have to help them evacuate," he gasped, "Leave me and-"

"I am not leafing you," Kurt said stubbornly.

David shook his head, his body starting to tremble. Although he knew it would only increase the pain he concentrated on Jean again. He needed to see what was happening.

_Logan was coming near her. His skin and tissue were peeling away but his healing factor was keeping him from falling apart all together. Each inch closer that he crept to Jean was an uphill battle. She turned her gaze to him, curious but no longer amused. Distaste flickered in her face as he reached her. _

"_You would die for them?" she asked scornfully. _

"_No. Not for them," Logan said, his voice strained, "For you. For you."_

_Jean's eyes came into focus. For a moment David saw the woman from his father's school, polite and clever, an X-Man and a teacher. For a moment she was Jean Grey again. _

"_Save me," she pleaded. _

_Logan's face contorted. David could tell then that he hadn't been in denial. He had known, had decided to fight anyway. His choice had been made before he'd even come to Alcatraz. He had known what he had to do after all. David felt respect for the man within him, barely even being able to imagine the burden that he was taking on himself._

"_I love you," he choked out. _

_His claws plunged into her stomach as he held her. They both cried out, Jean from physical anguish and Logan from mental. Suddenly a stabbing, burning sensation forced its way into David's head and he cried out too. It was the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life, like someone had cut open his mind and was wriggling the knife further and further inwards. _

_Distantly he felt blood pour from his nose and a warmth came into his ears. He could Kurt's hands on his shoulders, heard his voice calling his name. All of it paled in comparison to the pain in his head, a rather **crowded** feeling, if the crowd was full of spinning blades._

_Suddenly all of the chaos and pain stopped. The water dropped down again and the island reasserted itself. David pulled his vision back then. _

He looked up at Kurt, feeling the blood pouring down his face and breathing heavily.

"It's over," he gasped.


	34. Chapter 34

"I've been collecting and looking at the chemical components of The Cure ever since we got back from Alcatraz," said Hank, "And aftersome study think I know why it did what it did to Amanda."

Kurt swished his tail, his breath catching in his throat. He'd seen Amanda as soon as he got back from Alcatraz but had retreated after a few days with TJ in tow. Her family was on their way and he knew they would want time alone with her. He also doubted that, after everything, he would be welcome there.

However, in Hank's lab he knew he was welcome. Not only that but he knew that he'd be able to hear news of Amanda. Hank was tapping a microscope with a troubled expression on his face. It didn't make sense to Kurt. If he had found out what had happened to Amanda then he could fix it, couldn't he? Or was there some other complication? Either way he hoped desperately that it was something that could be undone.

"Vhy?" he asked.

"It's complicated," Hank said, "But essentially the reason The Cure works is that it isolates and attacks the X-gene, effectively suppressing it and its effects. However, in Amanda's case there was no X-gene. So it went onto the next gene on the strand which happens to be the one that regulates things like the heartbeat. It opens up some rather disturbing implications to be honest…especially the chemicals used…"

For a minute Hank did indeed look disturbed, but Kurt couldn't spend too much time worrying about that. The people who made and took The Cure voluntarily weren't his concern on the moment. His mind was focused on his angel whose voice he had only heard in memories for the past few days.

"Can you reverse it?"

Hank hesitated and Kurt's heart sank. He could tell by the expression on his face that whatever he was going to say would be bad.

"Kurt…to be honest I'm not particularly hopeful. I'm sorry to give that diagnosis. Right now I'm going to tell you what we're going to tell her family," he said, "See…the reason she went into a coma was because of the severe shock of **everything **shutting down at the same time. She would have died in a matter of minutes if you hadn't teleported her here."

"Not soon enough," said Kurt glumly.

"Don't beat yourself up about that," said Hank, "You did a remarkable job getting her here at all. Few teleporters have that range. The only reason Clarice was able to get everyone here was because of her crystals and even then they ended up on the beach. You got straight to the hospital wing."

Instead of saying anything Kurt looked down at the ground. Hank sighed before saying;

"But…as for Amanda…we know what it did now and knowing is half the battle. But that leaves the rather trickier half which is actually carrying this through. Now, I believe I can get her **body** functioning on its own again in a few months. I'm not sure if that means she'll wake up. The body may work but her brain was starved of oxygen for a few seconds. That could make her condition…permanent. Even with the use of telepaths I'm not sure we could wake her up again."

Brushing his rosary Kurt turned away.

"Danke Doktor McCoy," he said.

Feeling desolate he teleported away. Hank watched him and sighed. Then he turned back to his microscope and looked at The Cure's progress down a strand of DNA. Pushing the microscope away from him he got up and picked up the phone. Hank punched in a few numbers with his claw and waited while the call went through. 

* * *

><p>Something was wrong with him. David could tell just by looking in the mirror. Normal people didn't look like they did when they first looked up; not unless they had gotten completely smashed the night before; both physically and literally. It had taken a great effort to even get out of bed; he'd just wanted to stay there the whole day.<p>

David had thought that a cup of coffee would help; instead it had made him feel like someone was cooking noodles in his stomach with extreme heat. He'd had an extreme loss of appetite lately. Although he had eaten his way cheerfully through every meal since returning lately his stomach had churned at every bite. Afterwards he had vomited up most of what he'd eaten, leaving him weak and shaky.

Everything itched now. It wasn't the normal kind of itch either. It was like he itched **beneath **his skin. David felt like that skin was suddenly too tight; he'd sweated profusely in his sleep and woken up feeling shaken. He couldn't remember his dreams before and, as a telepath, that rarely happened.

He hadn't been overly ravenous before the battle but it wasn't anything like it was now. It didn't make any sense, it truly didn't. If it was stress and grief causing his symptoms then it should have abated somewhat after Alcatraz. He'd expected to still feel physically ill, but not to this extent. The last thing it should have done was get worse.

Another itch started up on his eye. Delicately he pushed his eye lids apart and examined his eye. Nothing was wrong with it, nothing that he could see. However, David had the oddest feeling that the iris wasn't supposed to be quite so big. Was it getting bigger? Were those red flecks he saw?

"Irises don't get bigger," he said, letting the eyelid close, "And eyes don't randomly change color."

His words didn't make him feel any more confident. A nosebleed started up. David watched the blood travel over his lips despairingly before wiping it away.

"All of you **go away**," he hissed, smacking the side of his head.

However, he hadn't heard any voices since the battle at Alcatraz. It worried him and he knew he shouldn't feel worried. David should feel relieved that they had all shut up. At the same time it was like they were talking amongst themselves. It was almost like they were worried and running from something.

David shook his head again and stared at himself in the mirror. It was natural, wasn't it? His father had just died and both he and his mother were in heavy mourning. He'd fought a battle for the future of mutant and human coexistence, and for however brief a time he was currently wearing his father's mantle. That burden was a particularly heavy one.

Despite their work Magneto had escaped. Amanda was still in a coma and he could see that it was tearing his cousin apart. He'd also agreed to help train Will, Tom, and Terry in the Danger Room Mark II since their parents didn't want to hurt them.

In short he had a full plate and, in many ways the lingering effects of the year should stay with him. The loss of appetite wasn't uncommon among those experiencing extreme stress and he'd always had nose bleeds when he was incredibly stressed. Whatever he thought he saw in his eyes was a trick of the light. He hadn't been sleeping well lately, again an effect of too much stress, and that couldn't help.

Soon things would return to normal. Ororo would begin running the institute in Westchester when school started up again in the fall. Training the children would become more of a gift then a burden, he was sure. He would look into getting another telepath to helping him with Amanda. It took two telepaths to secure a mind after all; one to pull it in and the other to hold the mind steady. The pain over his father would linger but he would deal with that seperately; he was sure it would never fully go away.

Feeling slightly more reassured David drew back from the mirror and put his best game face on. There was far too much to be done that day to worry about something as inconsequential about his stress-related physical inconveniences. Any therapist would tell him that he needed time to grieve in his own way. He would have time for that once the work was done; he'd take a few days off. He would even encourage his mother to do the same thing.

Next to his bed his phone rang. David walked over to it and picked up the receiver, noticing that the call was coming in from the lab.

"Hank?" asked David, picking up the phone.

"I need to talk to you about something," said Hank, "It's urgent."

Just another thing for him to deal with. 

* * *

><p>He opened his eyes, feeling like his joints were on fire. Everything looked red to him, like he was looking out of some sort of glass. His mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Even his eyes felt dry. He grimaced and tried to sit up, only to have two hands push him back down.<p>

"Whoa there, you're in no position to go anywhere."

He swallowed down some of the dryness and looked to the side. A young girl sat there. Her eyes were large and he thought he saw the glimmer of wings behind her. For some reason this didn't alarm him, almost seemed normal. He didn't understand why that was though. It shouldn't. Swallowing again he asked;

"Where am I?"

"Safe," replied the girl, shrugging slightly, "I guess that's all you need to know right now. I've called the Queen down. She'll decide how much more you need to know."

Turning his head again he saw that water had been placed by his bed. He reached out and drank a few mouthfuls. He felt like he was in a hospital; it certainly looked one. Now that he was concentrating more he could see that a few IVs had been stuck into his arms and there was a machine beeping somewhere.

Thinking back he tried to remember if he had done anything that would put him in a hospital. To his shock and horror he realized he couldn't remember anything for the past few days. Going further he realized that he couldn't remember **anything at all**. Jerking up he snapped at the girl;

"Who am I?"

The girl started.

"You don't know?" she asked, looking surprised.

"If I knew I wouldn't be asking you where I am, would I?" he snapped.

"Hey, no need to take that tone," she said, making a face, "We found you. You're lucky to be alive right now; you were practically dead when we brought you in."

He wanted to snap something at her but reminded himself that she was young. She didn't know anymore then he did and, while it was frustrating, she couldn't be blamed for that. Feeling irritated and more than a little panicked he went to rub his forehead. For the first time he noticed that his eyes had been encased in thick goggles.

"Why am I wearing goggles?" he groaned.

"We found 'em in a motorcycle not too far from you," she said, "When you opened your eyes these red lasers came out and completely destroyed some trees. Those stopped you for whatever reason. We brought all the stuff we found…you know, in case you wanted it back. You should lean back now. Might make you feel better."

He nodded and did so, his hands on his head.

"Where exactly did you find me?" he asked.

"Alkali Lake."

Looking around he saw a woman walk into the room. Even though everything was red he could tell from the hues of pink around her that she was probably wearing white. Everything looked like it laced up or had been tailored especially for her. A white satin choker encircled her throat and a frosty lipstick had been applied with precision. Blonde hair fell in waves past her shoulders and she smiled.

"I'm Emma Frost, White Queen of the Hellfire Club," she said.

"The what of the what?" he grimaced.

She gave him an indulgent smile.

"It means I'm important."

Her tone left no room for argument and she inclined her head to the girl. A few seconds passed before she approached, her heels clicked on the floor.

"My bodyguard Megan tells me that you can't seem to remember who you are," she said, "Which is unfortunate but also explainable."

"Really?" he asked sarcastically," 'cause it looks like you didn't say anything at all."

"Yes, really," Emma said condescendingly, "For your mind there was an enormous psychic blast in the area we found you in. As for the other part I'm a telepath; you know what that is right?"

"You can…read minds…" he mumbled, straining to find the proper words.

"Good. You know, I thought that because you had such customized goggles that you might have grown up around other mutants," she said, "Which makes sense why you didn't have an adverse reaction to Megan. Now then, I'd like you to regain your memory so you could tell me what happened. It takes a lot to gain the attention of a powerful telepath like me."

He rolled his eyes.

"Nice to see how humble you are," he said.

"Watch your mouth," Megan snapped.

"It's quite alright. Men are like this; remember The Black King?" asked Emma, "Not this one, but the last one. Didn't know when to shut up."

Megan nodded as a smirk spread over Emma's face. Suddenly he got the feeling that whatever had happened to this 'Black King' had been unpleasant and had had to do with Emma. When she turned her attention back to him he began to wonder what sort of people he had fallen in with. Emma cocked her head at him and tapped her temple.

"I can hear you. But don't worry about us," she said, "There's no reason for you to be worried…not yet at least. See, we can help each other. You want your memories back and I want to know what happened. You'll be my guest until then and everyone will win."

Although wary he didn't seem to have any other option. He nodded and Emma got a little closer, laying a cool hand on his forehead.

"Now let's see what I can find," she said, "I'm just doing a preliminary search, you understand? I think you got blasted pretty hard."

He nodded again and then felt a strange sensation in his hypothalamus. It was familiar to him for some reason, although he didn't know why. After a minute Emma pulled back.

"Not much," she said, "I'll have to go deeper next time. But you'll be happy to know you have a name; a first one anyway."

"And?" he asked impatiently.

She smiled at him, a smile that was both beautiful and calculating.

"Scott," Emma said.


	35. Chapter 35

"She may never wake up again?" Margali Sefton asked, her voice trembling.

Moira Xavier nodded. Margali looked down at her daughter and bit her lip. Despite the breathing mask someone had taken the time to put Amanda's favorite heart-shaped locket around her neck. It made her look familiar; almost. Tears flooded her eyes to the extent where she could barely see. Her husband put a comforting hand on her shoulder but said nothing. Stephan was silent as well in his chair, staring straight ahead at the wall.

"Muir Island will take care of Amanda for as long as need be," Moira said quietly, "We'll even transfer her to a hospital that's fully equipped to handle her condition nearer to home for her if you desire. We'll foot the bill for all of it."

Margali barely heard her words. She continued looking at Amanda and wondered how this could happen to her daughter, her family. They had been a completely average family for over twenty years now, living their lives in a completely ordinary way. Then, out of the blue, their daughter was attacked and their world was turned upside down.

Amanda had always seemed so strong, on her way to being an independent adult. It didn't surprise her when she saw that her daughter had only been attacked because she'd been protecting children. It made sense to her. She had always loved children, had wanted to be a teacher ever since she was a child herself.

The pictures Amanda had sent home of herself, her boyfriend, and TJ were in Margali's purse. She had been shocked at Kurt's appearance but she'd always known what TJ had looked like. Amanda had even confided in her mother that she was considering, once she had a stable career and had graduated college, adopting the little girl. Margali still didn't know how to feel about that so she had simply told Amanda that it would take a lot of responsibility. However, if it was just a matter of responsibility then she was sure that Amanda could handle it.

Amanda had found her own path in recent years, entering her life as an adult. She was finding her footing in a shockingly quick manner though. Margali had worried several times about her daughter slipping away from them. Her daughter was headstrong; her husband used to say that she took after her.

It had been why she was reluctant to have her daughter become an exchange student again, that she would drift. It was also why the idea she might start a long-term relationship with a mutant who could very easily be attacked had worried her. She had panicked at the thought of her getting hurt so very far from home.

Now it had happened, every nightmare in the back of her mind, every dark, paranoid idea. She knew it wasn't Amanda's fault, not TJ's, and not this Kurt's. It wasn't Muir Island's fault either but it hadn't been an accident. What had happened to her daughter was deliberate. Someone was at fault out there. The Friends of Humanity hadn't known she was a human, but they had hurt her none the less but it didn't feel like that was all there was to it. Some culprit was missing that she couldn't place; she could feel it deep in her bones.

Truthfully Margali felt at a loss at the moment. What were they supposed to do? It was good that Muir Island was paying; they didn't have the money or insurance to keep her alive and that crushed her inside. Deep down though she knew that she would take on five jobs and never sleep again if it meant she could prolong one more minute of Amanda's life.

She glanced back over at the rest of her family. Her husband and her had immigrated to the United States years ago, hoping to make a better life for their family. During that time she had struggled to manage their finances, send the kids to school, and make sure that they kept their heads above water. Although Margali respected her husband she knew that of the two of them she was the strong one, the one who, if she broke now, Stephan and her husband could very well break with her.

Suddenly she felt a deep-seated anger. How could this have happened? How could that 'cure' have done this to her daughter? Surely someone would have known that it would do this to humans. Wouldn't something like this have been on the news? Wouldn't the FDA have stopped it in production if it had such harmful potential side effects?

How could Warren's father let this happen? She thought back to when she had run into Warren less than an hour ago. He had pleaded for their forgiveness for a crime not his own, for a crime that he had tried so desperately to fix. Margali couldn't bring herself to be angry at him though, not at the boy who had pleaded with his father to let him be on the community soccer team so he could play with other children. Not the boy who was her son's best friend.

However, she could blame his father. This was, she realized suddenly, the one who was missing. How could he not have known that this would happen? How could he put safety second and productivity first? Granted he was a businessman, but The Cure was a free injection, wasn't it? Hadn't he opened the clinics around the country, set them up so mutants of all classes could come and receive it? There was no profit to be made. Hadn't he called it his gift to the world?

It had been the gift of death for her daughter. Her fist clenched as she stared down at the dozens of tubes and IV's inserted into her, at the oxygen mask that she needed to wear. An anger burned inside her and her mind focused. The Friends of Humanity who had perpetrated the attack were already in prison. There was no way to make them pay beyond what the judge would decide and, because of video evidence; they would be locked away for a very long time.

Someone else needed to pay for their part in this crime though. His name was Warren Worthington I.

"We're going back to the States," she said suddenly.

Simultaneously she felt her family look at her. The words pained her but she knew they needed to be said.

"But mom-" started Stephan.

"No buts. We need a legal team and we need to present a unified front as the family of the victim," she said, "That means we all need to be together. We'll figure it out; find the money to do it somehow. We won't be suing Mr. Worthington for money though, oh no. We'll be suing him to take that damn **cure**-"

She spit the word out.

"-off the market. I want that compound destroyed for what it did, for what he let happen," she continued, the fire burning in her words, "I don't want to leave Amanda but we have to. They'll be more like her if we don't do something **right now **because I know that this won't be an isolated incident. More families will stand where we stand and I'll be damned if I let the criminal who started this all get away with it. Are you with me?"

Her husband and son gaped with her. Slowly Stephan swallowed.

"With you mom," he said.

"I'm with you dearest."

From the corner of her eye she saw Moira move. For the first time in a long time she remembered that she was there.

"Don't worry about money for a legal team," said Moira, her voice sounding a little awed, "As I said; we'll foot it."

For a moment her anger was turned aside by a rush of gratitude, followed by the small fear of leaving her daughter alone in this strange country. She really didn't want to leave her in this place with no one to visit her, no one to be there for her when she woke. Yet, a niggling doubt in her head told her that that wasn't exactly true.

"Thank you," she said quietly, "We should leave in a few hours, start this up while it's still fresh in people's mind. But…"

She took a deep breath.

"I'd like to have a word with Kurt first."

* * *

><p>Kurt rested in the castle's chapel annex, his knees drawn up to his chin. Hearing the news about Amanda had hurt badly, almost as much as when she had been initially hurt. Once more he found himself helpless to save the woman he loved. He was starting to have a niggling doubt that he would never hear her laugh, never feel her lips kiss his, her hand on his cheek, never hear her tell him she loved him. Likewise he wouldn't be able to tell her how she had changed his life and made him feel things he thought he never would.<p>

He was alone now, although TJ had been with him at one point. He'd had to explain Amanda's condition to the child, trying to sound positive. From her downcast expression it appeared that she had read the subtext. He'd brought her into the chapel hoping it would give them both reassurance. While it comforted him, and from TJ's expression her as well, he still felt that heart-wrenching sorrow.

Soon the young girl had started to fall asleep. He'd teleported to her room and tucked her in, giving her assurances that they would find time tomorrow to visit Amanda. Their visits to her were very important to the both of them. Vaguely Kurt wondered if TJ had ever fully trusted an adult before Amanda, ever wanted them as family. He suspected not.

When he teleported himself back he wondered if his uncle would have been able to help him. He had seemed very wise for the painfully short amount of time that Kurt had known him and he had the feeling that he too had had to deal with a great deal of sorrow. He'd lost his sister after all; lost her in a way that might as well have been death. Kurt shook his head, trying to dispel the painful thoughts of his mother.

At least she had given him a family. In his dark hour he was not without people to stand by him, to try and help him . David in particular was very good at listening to him, offering him advice, but lately he had seen that David was starting to sicken. He wondered if David, like his father before him, was trying to do too much. Kurt sincerely hoped he got better soon. Just like he hoped Amanda's eyes would soon open, but he felt that that was more of a prayer than a hope.

From the back the doors opened slowly. A middle-aged woman walked in, her hair pushed back in a loose bun and looking exhausted. Although he had never seen her before Kurt knew there was something familiar about the shape of her face, the set of her eyes. Almost guiltily he realized that the woman was Amanda's mother.

Waves of shame washed over him and he looked away. Amanda's mother stood by his pew but didn't look at him, just stared straight ahead.

"I've found myself in a church more and more often these days," she said after a time, "When I couldn't visit my daughter I kept going there, praying she'd wake up again, that we'd be able to fly to Muir Island when the crisis was over."

She gave a rueful chuckle.

"You know, I'm ashamed to say that I didn't see what The Cure had to do with me really. Not at first. I was ignorant and I thought I could remain so for the rest of my life. I was just a normal human after all who wasn't sure what to think about mutants."

He remained silent, not knowing if she wanted him to respond or not.

"But, then I got another letter home and I remembered, this was going to affect me," she said, "My daughter felt very strongly about it. I knew it hurt her so it would have to hurt me to. See, she kept writing home about this one mutant she was in love with."

Kurt turned to look at her then, swallowing deeply.

"Margali Sefton," she said quietly, "I'm Amanda's mother."

"I know," he replied, "Kurt Vagner."

"I know that too," Margali said with a soft smile.

She sat down next to him and for a few minutes there was another silence.

"We're leaving in the morning."

He stared at her in a mixture of shock and a feeling of falling. They were Amanda's family and they were just leaving her?

"I know what you're thinking; what kind of woman leaves her daughter in a coma?" asked Margali bitterly, "But I have to go stateside with my family and fight those who did this to her. I need to bring down Worthington's Cure before it harms anyone else and fast before public sympathy fades. It sounds cynical, but I've lived long enough know how the tides flow."

Sighing she looked over at Kurt.

"You love my daughter, don't you?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and remembered his sweet angel.

"More zan life," he murmured.

Margali nodded.

"From what she wrote, she felt the same about you," said Margali, "I'm sure she told you that; Amanda was always very vocal. But…it's because of that…Kurt, if I can call you Kurt…"

"Of course."

She shot him a quick smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"That's why I'm coming to you Kurt," she said, "Amanda is my only daughter, my baby. I don't want her to be alone. What if she wakes up when we're gone? I want someone to tell her we only left to defend her, to make sure this never happened again, and that we didn't want to."

He looked at the woman with sympathy, remembering his feelings as he went to Alcatraz. It had been doing something that was going against his grain in the first place but he'd also had to leave her for a while. Margali pushed back what looked like tears and then met Kurt's eyes, her gaze determined.

"I want someone to be there for her, to watch over her when we can't, keep her safe," she said, "And…from what you've told me…what **she** told me…I want to ask you to take on that burden for us."

Kurt took a deep breath in, remembering how he had begged TJ to watch over Amanda while he went to Alcatraz. He knew exactly what Margali was feeling.

"You nefer efen had to ask," he said.

She nodded and put a tentative hand on his shoulder as she got up.

"Thank you Kurt," Margali said, "I'm…I'm going to go say goodbye to her now. We have to leave fast."

He nodded at her and she walked out of the chapel. The door closed behind her and Kurt leaned back, closing his eyes. Almost immediately he heard;

_Kurt? Is this a bad time?_

_Not really lieber vetter, _thought Kurt ruefully.

_Good, _David thought, his thoughts odd and disjointed, _I…I need to speak to you about something. Could you get down to the teacher's lounge? _

Kurt frowned at his cousin's tone but got up.

_Of course._

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Although I've gone with the X-Men: Evolution version of Amanda f__rom what I've seen, in both the comics and the books, Margali was the one who wore the pants in the Sefton household._


	36. Chapter 36

David had always been doubtful of the saying that it would be better in the morning. If anything things tended to look worse in the morning since they were preceded by nightmares. At least they were for him. In any case this certainly looked worse because he didn't just have to talk to Kurt, his mother, and Lorna. This time he had to address the entire X-Force and give an order to Alex, its leader.

He wondered if he had the authority to do that. Certainly his mother and him had the controlling interest in the schools. Yet, it felt wrong to stand there and give his aunt and uncles orders. Alex was the one who had always given him the orders and he had always followed. He could only hope that he would give him his support, but considering the subject matter he found it unlikely.

The fact that Doug and Rahne were there too didn't help. Oh certainly they deserved to be included in the discussion but so did Ororo and Logan. The X-Men should be there. At least Hank had told Ororo what had been decided because of safety, but this mostly concerned the X-Force. It was all going to happen on Muir Island after all. Westchester was going to be kept safely out of it.

Overall it wasn't doing his now-continuous headache any favors.

"I've called you all together because…because we need to talk about something Hank discovered while studying the components of The Cure," said David, "I'll let him take it from here."

Hank cleared his throat.

"We all know that The Cure attacks the X-gene," he said, "But it suppresses it, not removes it. It's still there; the person is still technically a mutant but without any of their abilities. Now the reason it did what it did to Amanda is because she didn't have an X-gene and it attacked the next gene on the strand; the one that regulates heartbeat, liver output, and so on."

He swallowed and David knew he was getting to what had nearly made him sick the day before.

"But…I've been doing some studies," he said, "I don't think that The Cure is permanent."

"What?" asked Alex.

"It's exactly what it sounds like," said Hank, "It takes longer time for physical mutations to return but I think that, in the space of about two weeks for the stronger mutants, more for the weaker, small amounts of a less physical mutation will return."

"Whoa, hold it right there," Sean said, "I'm no doctor, but people would have noticed it if it came back after two weeks. It was announced over a month ago."

"I said small amounts. What I guess would have been a better phrase is 'trace amounts'," Hank said, "And it will only return incrementally after that. It may take a year for powers to return to what they were, less if they're more powerful. See, the thing is is that the mutants who took The Cure think their mutation is gone for good. But the thing is that it's returning; the only reason they don't know is because they aren't trying to use their powers. After a point though they're going to notice; especially the ones with the physical mutations."

"So The Cure's a dud?" asked Alex.

"It would appear so."

"All that over something that doesn't even work," Doug said, holding his head in one hand.

"Well shit," said Rahne, looking irritated, "if he was going to unleash something like that on the world the least he could do is know that it **worked**."

Hank shrugged and cracked his neck nervously. He and David had talked it out tirelessly with Lorna, Kurt, and his mother. They knew exactly what was going to happen next.

"Well…I wish that were all I was here to tell you," he said.

The irritated atmosphere in the room dropped and was replaced with something more serious.

"What do you mean?" asked Doug.

"The Cure will still be in their systems even after it stops working," said Hank miserably, "Because it's meant to last for life, even if it doesn't. It detaches itself from the X-gene because it's like an antibody and it thinks it's neutralized the original 'threat'. However…from a few tests I've run…it's going to trickle down to the next gene on the strand."

His words sunk in slowly. Rahne covered her mouth and looked away.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"Exactly," said Hank, "It's not…we're going to see more of what happened to Amanda to every mutant who took The Cure. I've alerted Ororo to get any students who took it to a colleague of mine and try to flush it out of their system. It will take weeks but I've shared a plan that I think will work. It should prevent the symptoms Amanda displayed."

"And the rest?" asked Doug, "There must have been thousands who took it!"

"Yes. I'm televising it as well as giving the plan to all hospitals in one hour," Hank said, "I still have some clout in Washington and I'm using it. Things are going to get nasty very quickly. I'm flying Carly over tonight; I don't like to think about the riots that are going to break out all over the states."

"The Seftons are going to start a lobby to destroy all remaining doses of The Cure," said Moira, "Hank's called up a few friends of his to help with that. With this new evidence though I think Worthington is in for more than just that. They're being flown out soon."

"This is awful," said Sean, "Just…God. I can't believe this."

David cleared his throat. It was time to say what he was dreading. He looked over at his mother, Kurt, and Lorna. He drew strength from them and took a deep breath.

"This also…begets some other complications," he said, "You see…not everyone took The Cure voluntarily. And Hank says that if The Cure was given under duress then the harmful effects might actually become worse due to a reaction with the adrenaline that must have been in thier system."

"You mean the Brotherhood?" snorted Alex, "Don't worry, they're legally provided with medical care in prison. They'll be fine."

"No…not them," David said, his words halting, "You see…well, let's start with my aunt."

There was a pause.

"Isn't she in prison too?" asked Sean, giving a quiet look at Kurt.

"She's being released due to her cooperation in a few days," said David, "So no, she won't be getting that medical care. The only…the only place she has to go now that Magneto's fallen is…well…"

His voice trailed off. His mother straightened her back and stepped forward.

"The only place she has to go is home, although she never stepped foot on Muir Island," Moira said, "We're arranging to have her delivered to us so she can receive the proper treatment."

The room lapsed into a stunned silence.

"Hell no," Alex said.

"It's something my father would have done," David said, knowing that that had been a large factor in making his decision.

"And I'm telling you what I'd tell him. Respectfully; hell **no**," Alex snapped.

"Moira…I don't think…what she's done," said Sean, "There are children here...my **daughter**..."

"Sean, you weren't the one who got captured by the Brotherhood," Moira said stiffly, "I know what she's done. But if we let her die just because she's our enemy how would we be any better than her? Besides…she…"

Moira's face contorted and David could see how much trouble she had framing the words. He knew there was a long history with his mother and Mystique. Moira had never forgiven Mystique for leaving his father on the beach and condoning her torture. Mystique had never forgiven Moira for being a CIA agent and not being good enough, in her eyes at least, for her brother to share his life with.

"…she's family," Moira managed at last, "In several ways. I'm going with the Seftons to the states. When I'm there I'm going to pick her up. I think I'll be able to convince her to come. At least…I think I have a better shot than anyone else."

That was true. Despite their mutual dislike Moira hadn't been in situations where she had actively fought Mystique. And his mother knew how to keep her temper. It was why he had approached her to go to talk to Mystique in the first place. He'd also talked to Kurt, begging him to allow the mother who had abandoned him to come there for sanctuary. He knew how hard it would be to allow her onto Muir Island. The Island was small and the two would eventually meet.

Kurt shifted uncomfortably and David gave him a grateful look. He knew he could depend on his cousin.

"I don't want to," Rahne muttered, "But I don't feel comfortable committing willful murder, no matter who it is. But I just want to ask…are you sure about this?"

Moira nodded and Rahne looked towards the ceiling, seeming very tired.

"Okay…okay…" mumbled Sean, "Okay. We're going to be housing Mystique. Okay…but I don't want her within fifty feet of Terry or Maeve."

"Same can be said for my family," Alex growled, "Right Lorna?"

Lorna didn't say anything and Alex seemed to take her silence for an agreement. He probably thought she nodded since she was behind him or something similar. David saw her face though, saw that she was preparing for something akin to a physical blow. He wished that he could have stopped right there, but the worst was yet to come.

"But…there's another mutant who won't go to the doctors and won't get prison care," David said, forcing each word out, "And I don't like this…not at all…but…we're going to have to offer treatment to Magneto."

Unlike the silence that had followed Mystique's name the room exploded.

"He's a terrorist!" exclaimed Sean.

"After everything he's done?" Doug said, "I don't think so! He haunted my nightmares for most of my childhood!"

"And you think that, even with my father's tempering of the stories, he didn't do the same to me?" snapped David, "I said I didn't like it."

"Then don't do it!" Alex shot back, "How would you even find him anyway?"

"I think I might be able to use Cerebro Mark II to find him," David said, "He's still a mutant but I don't think he's wearing his helmet anymore. He probably thinks he doesn't need it. Cerebro is functioning, correct?"

Doug gnawed on his lip angrily.

"Only the more basic functions but yes, you should be able to do that," said Doug, "But why aren't we turning him into the authorities? It's what we should do!"

"Well, I just thought of it to start with," David said tiredly, "And we'd have to offer him temporary amnesty if we don't want him to die."

"I"m not so sure we **don't **want that," snorted Alex, "Besides, he doesn't trust us. He won't accept our offer."

"It depends on who's doing the asking," David said quietly.

The silence came again. Alex turned slowly to his wife.

"No," he said, "Don't tell me you said you'd ask him, that you'd invite him here. Don't tell me you said you'd do that."

Lorna looked at him evenly.

"I won't tell you then."

"God damn it Lorna!" Alex shouted, "How could you?"

"He's my father Alex," she said, her voice tense, "I'm not going to let him die a painful death."

"Have you learned nothing?" he yelled.

"I've learned enough," Lorna said, her own voice rising.

David quickly issued the mental thought that they should all leave the room. He didn't want to be privy for this. Most of the members of the X-Force had already started to inch towards the door. He was the last one out, Lorna and Alex waiting for thier friends to leave before continuing. David was almost positive that he could convince the others to let Magneto onto Muir Island. He was depowered after all. Lorna was the one who'd have to convince Alex though.

* * *

><p>The door shut and Lorna stared Alex down defiantly.<p>

"You knew how I felt about this way before we got married," she said, "You knew."

"And you know how I feel!" snapped Alex, "You're going to keep him with us, with our **children**? It's not safe for them!"

His words stung. Anger was building deep inside her and it took every ounce of her control to keep the metal in the room from rattling. She wasn't a teenager anymore; she couldn't handle it like a teenager would.

"He cares about his family," she said, "He'd never hurt them."

"Listen to yourself Lorna!" Alex said.

"I know him-"

"Lorna, you don't know him! You know what he wanted you to know for one summer when you were seventeen. That means nothing!"

Something cold gripped her heart.

"Don't say that!" she yelled, "You know it meant something; you knew he cared about me. You were the one who reassured me!"

A sudden thought occured to her, one that made her want to scream at her husband. Instead it came out as a low growl.

"Or were you just trying to molly-coddle me, stop your girlfriend from crying?"

"No, I-" he started.

"Then you know," spat Lorna, "You know. You weren't there when I showed him their pictures Alex. He cares, even if he has done terrible things-"

"An understatement," Alex snorted, "You just want your father back Lorna. But face it; you never had him."

She swallowed hard.

"I'm not going to lie," she said, "That is part of it. But…listen…I…"

Lorna hadn't wanted it to go this far, but it was the only way she could get him to understand how she felt.

"I have one living relative in the entire world. I can't lose any more. We already lost the Professor and Scott-"

"Don't Lorna," said Alex, his voice choked at the mention of his brother, "Don't."

"I don't want him to die, even if I've had to fight him to continue to be me," she said.

Lorna took a step towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. It hurt that he didn't reciprocate the gesture immediately, but she knew he was numb with anger and shock.

"Listen to me," said Lorna, "You're right; I can't save him. Not in the way I want to."

She closed her eyes to stem the tears that were building up.

"But I can save him from this," she said, "Please Alex, work with me on this. I want...no...I **need **you by side on this."

Her tears were set free when his arms wrapped around her back. Alex kissed the side of her face as he said, his voice harsh;

"I don't like it Lorna. I'm never going to like it. I'm never going to stop suspecting him. But I'm by your side for better or for worse."

"That's all I ask Alex," Lorna said, "All I ask."


	37. Chapter 37

"You have a visitor Ms. Darkholme," the guard announced stiffly.

Mystique looked up from her book, feeling bored. She stretched and allowed the guard to escort her to another room. In another time, another life it felt like, she would have tried to kill him and make a run for it. Although she still had the physical skills to do such a thing she didn't see the point. Besides, she was already getting early release for betraying her betrayer, though even that action had given her no satisfaction.

As she sat down she began to wonder about her visitor. They hadn't allowed her visitors before. The sudden, gut-wrenching thought that it was Charles came before she remembered that Charles was dead. It was too late to fear seeing him again before she had something other than a trail of dead bodies to show for her efforts. He wouldn't thank her if that was all she'd accomplished.

She'd heard the news through a few whispered conversations. It had made her upset but had seemed somehow appropriate. Mystique had lost everything else, why shouldn't she lose a brother too? It was just the sort of thing that would happen to her. She'd started laughing before the laughter dissolved into tears.

Resting one hand on the table she put her chin on top of it. The guard opened the door and at first she didn't recognize the person coming in. Then a memory from twenty years ago flickered and she realized she was looking at an aged Moira. Her 'groovy' hair had faded with grey and her face seemed like she was carrying a great weight.

Carefully she sat down, her hands folded on the table in front of her.

"Thank you, that will be all."

The guard hesitated and Moira let out an irritated sigh.

"I have clearance form a SHIELD agent as well as several other priority clearances," she said, "You can go for now."

The guard hesitated for a moment more and then left the room. The door clicked shut behind him; Mystique knowing he'd probably just gone to get behind the two-way mirror on the other side of the room. Moira gave a long look at Mystique before sighing. As her surprise gave way to irritation at seeing a woman she had loathed for so long Mystique snapped;

"Nice of you to show your face. It's only been twenty years out here in the world."

"I've been busy," Moira said.

"Too busy to be married?" asked Mystique, raising an eyebrow.

Moira gave her an even look. She placed one of her hands flat on the table so Mystique could see the gold band she still wore.

"For some reason you and Erik-"

Mystique glowered at the name but Moira didn't appear to notice.

"-seem to think that we'd gotten a divorce," she said, "I'm not sure how stupid you think I am, but I wasn't stupid enough to leave him."

Her words were a nasty barb and Mystique made a face.

"So where were you?" she demanded.

"Charles sent my son and I to Muir Island," she said calmly, "There was an incident."

"Like?" asked Mystique, wondering what would drive a man who loved his family as much as Charles to send them away.

"A bad one," Moira said, "But I'm here about your release in a few days."

"Going to ask me to stay clear of your precious pets?"

Again Moira sighed. She clasped her hands in front of her and said;

"I'm asking you where you plan on getting your medical treatment."

Mystique blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know how much they tell you here," said Moira, "But an hour ago The Cure was declared defective."

She nearly cried out in relief.

"But it has the rather nasty side effect of killing anyone it was administered to," continued Moira, "I'm here to offer you treatment so you won't meet that fate. We'll pick you up as soon as possible if you accept."

Mystique stared at her.

"I feel fine."

"For now," said Moira, "Look, you don't like me and you don't trust me. That's fine; that's your decision. But I don't want to see you dead. And…"

She hesitated. Mystique cocked her head at the older woman, wondering what it had taken to say those words. Despite herself she found some respect for the woman.

"…your son doesn't either."

The respect quickly melted away.

"I don't have a son," she spat.

Moira raised an eyebrow.

"His name is Kurt. We're not sure who the father is but Charles was certain you were-"

"He was wrong," snapped Mystique.

"Think back," Moira said, sounding frustrated and irritated, "I'm sure you remember having a child."

Her anger bubbled over.

"If you must know, miss perfect," she snarled, "I was pregnant once. But I miscarried!"

Her words were a snarl and it was only after she said them that she realized how much she'd revealed. Mystique's fist pounded into the table with each following word.

"**I. HAVE. NO. SON!**"

The door opened and the guard rushed in. Moira waved him away and, when he was gone, turned her attention back to Mystique. She looked surprised but unconvinced.

"Kurt's DNA says otherwise," said Moira.

She stared at her, feeling nameless emotions churning in her stomach and clattering around in her head.

"You…you did a DNA test?" she asked tentatively.

"Charles wouldn't decide something like this lightly," said Moira, "Now Kurt's been living as my nephew and cousin to my son for several months now. I believe you met him when you went to Alkali Lake with the X-Men."

An image of a strange young man with golden eyes flickered through her head. She'd remembered wondering briefly if he was somehow related to her former lover Azazel. They both had the pointed ears, tails, and fangs. The more she thought about it the sicker she felt. He** was **related; he was his son. He was a perfect mixture of the two of them. How could she have not seen it?

_Because they told you you miscarried, _a voice in her head whispered, _But you never looked for a body, did you?_

"They…they told me I miscarried," she said, her voice quaking.

"And Kurt's adopted parents told him they found him left for dead in a well," said Moira, "But I don't think that's true. I never thought you'd abandon your son."

She scanned Moira's face for a hint of molly coddling. Grudgingly she had to admit that Moira was telling the truth; she had thought that.

"I make no promises about when or if you can meet him," Moira said, "Because that's up to Kurt. I'm honestly not sure if he's ready."

Mystique laughed.

"That's okay," she said bitterly, "I'm not sure I am either. But…I'll go to Muir Island." 

* * *

><p>The last game of chess Erik had played had been with Charles over a year ago in prison. It had actually been the only thing that they had done on Charles' first visit. He'd been too angry with him at first to do anything other than move his pieces. After all; he would never have the opportunity he'd had on Liberty Island ever again.<p>

Of course, no one was on the other side of the board this time. It was just him and the pieces. He'd always seen himself as the King on the board, black of course. It had always been in Charles' nature to seek the lighter things in life while Erik slunk in the shadows. It didn't matter. Charles could play the hero all he wanted but he knew he'd win in the end.

That was what he'd thought in any case. Charles had, though dead, still managed to win at Alcatraz. It had come at a cost but he hadn't had his mutation stripped away from him. Erik was no longer the King on the chessboard; he was a pawn if he was an actual figurine. It was more likely that he was a square to be trodden on, or perhaps he didn't even exist on the board anymore. He was alone now; that made sense.

With a sigh he reached out to touch a piece. Some sixth sense whispered to him that he should try to move it like he always had in the past. Erik would have laughed out loud if the suggestion hadn't been so inherently tragic. However, something nudged him towards doing it, and he narrowed his eyes in concentration.

A second passed and nothing happened. Then the piece wobbled. It wasn't much, but it was there. He nearly started in shock. Something akin to satisfaction welled up in him. He was whole again; he was back on the board. Maybe it would take months or years but he would become the King soon.

He was so lost in his musings that he didn't notice the footsteps that approached him. He didn't notice the clicking of heels on concrete. Erik didn't even notice the chair being moved slightly and another person sitting down in it. When he finally did look up he found himself looking into the green eyes of his daughter.

He started and instinctively pushed his chair back. She put a hand out as though to stop him, a look of desperation on her face. Realizing that he wasn't about to be thrown in prison, he knew she wouldn't look so calm if he was, he settled down. Lorna gave a tentative smile and an old anger that she wouldn't smile at him like she used to returned.

"Thank you," she said.

Erik shifted in his seat but didn't meet her eyes again. Lorna noticed this and looked down.

"What are you doing here?" he asked finally, "How did you even find me?"

All of his words to her in recent years seemed so cruel, especially since he could tell how much she had probably gone through to come to him. Yet, there was still hurt there that she hadn't gone with him in the first place. Two metal benders against the world. It could have been a wonderful force. Why had Charles managed to take this from him?

"Well, David found you," she said, "Your…your X-gene is suppressed; not gone. It took a lot out of him though. He's not used to using Cerebro and...I think he's been sick lately."

Erik thought back to the boy that he'd seen three times; only once in person. As a baby he'd seen Moira holding him before she went upstairs with Mystique. The second time had been when Hank had been elected to the Senate, receiving congratulations from supporters. The third and final time had been at Charles' funeral.

David was the splitting image of his father as he'd been when Erik had first met him. Admittedly he was thinner and a little taller. He'd inherited the strangely blue eyes and the know-it-all smirk though. The only real difference was the auburn hair that had grown on his head; a gift from his mother. It was the only mutation he'd received from **her**.

"So you found me," he said, "Congratulations. I'm assuming from your lack of back-up that I'm not being taken to prison. Or is one feeble old man not considered a threat anymore?"

Lorna smoothed her skirt.

"I'm sorry they gave you The Cure," said Lorna.

He continued not looking at her; he was afraid she'd see his recent revelation on his face. He'd beaten it somehow and he knew she'd tell her fellow X-Men. It might hurt her but ultimately it was where her loyalties lay.

"But it's dangerous," she said, "It's going to start fading, infecting and killing you. Hank tells me that they gave you three syringes adn that makes it so much worse, why everyone had to be convinced that you had to come to Muir Island instead of leaving it to the government...and I...I..."

Her voice trailed off and Erik frowned.

"Pardon?"

"The Cure…the chemicals are wrong. Hank did an analysis because of Amanda," she said, "The woman who saved my children."

She hadn't had to supply the additional information. Moira's drop of the name had been enough for him to remember it forever. One pinprick of light amongst darkness.

"It's going to keep going down the DNA strand, destroying all regulatory systems," she said, "I'm here to offer you sanctuary at Muir Island so we can monitor it and make sure nothing happens."

"Yes, so you can hand me over to the authorities the moment I become healthy again," snorted Erik, "No thank you."

"I wouldn't do that."

Her words were firm and defiant; leaving no room for argument. Erik suddenly realized how his words sounded.

"Not you," said Erik dismissively, "You're not…never mind."

Although he hadn't been able to find the words for it he could see that the few he did say made the world of difference to Lorna. She reached across the table and placed her hand on his wrist. The contact; the first in a very long time, made his eyes flicker up to hers. She watched him steadily and said;

"David is offering Sanctuary. You can trust him."

"Charles' son has no reason to trust me," he said stiffly.

Lorna bit her lip.

"If you can't trust him, trust me father. Trust me."

Her voice became quieter.

"My children are there," murmured Lorna, "You could see them…I could…don't worry about Alex. I'll make sure that everything will be okay."

Erik swallowed. In many ways she was like him; he had used the same technique to get Mystique to visit Lorna twenty years before. All he'd had to do was tempt her with a relative. At the same time Lorna's promise was more than just reassuring. It was a vow and he knew his daughter didn't break her word lightly. To have her word on something was ironclad. It was also more preferable to dying slowly and painfully.

"Alright Lorna," he said, his voice measured, "Alright. Just for the time being."

A smile spread across her face, one of desperate relief.

"Of course."


	38. Chapter 38

Scott knew he had fallen in with a bad crowd. There was the odd smile that Emma was so fond of giving, the way Megan went everywhere fully armed. It was disconcerting to say the least. There were many guards on the mansion-like house as well as an on-call selection of servants and doctors. Nothing about their situation even spoke of normality.

If he had anywhere else to go he would have left the first day. However, he knew almost nothing about his past. Emma told him it was because he'd been psionically blasted, which had masked most of his memories. Something like that anyway. So far all he knew was his first name, that he'd been raised and trained around mutants, and that at one point he'd been experimented on.

The last fact had come from an odd conversation he'd had with Emma. He'd had many odd conversations with Emma, and not all of them about his past memories. She was intelligent and sharp, if not especially compassionate. He had to try hard to see some of the calculation in her words, but he could tell that she never let her guard down around him for a second. Sometimes he wondered if she was some sort of automaton.

If he wanted to have a normal conversation he'd have to find Megan. She seemed a little curious about him and he got the feeling that she didn't talk to many people. Apparently she'd been all over the world and enjoyed talking about it. However, Scott could tell when the young woman was leaving out dates and people. It was like she was afraid of betraying something about her mechanical mistress.

On the day when he'd found out he was experimented on he'd worn a sleeveless shirt. He'd been in the kitchen, making toast, and Emma had come up behind him to fetch something. She'd paused and he'd felt her cool diamond finger tap his neck. He'd turned irritably to her then, wondering what sort of games she was playing.

She had stepped back when he did so. Her eyes seemed a little trapped and panicked. For a moment he was confused at the situation, wondering why on earth **she **seemed jittery around **him**. Then he realized that if she hadn't moved his shoulder would have touched hers when he turned. She was a wearing a white corset with no sleeves, so their skin would have touched.

Quietly he assessed the look in her eyes. Some skill that he'd had in his past life went through the facts, searching for signs of abuse. Sure she'd touched him in the past, but she'd turned her fingers into hard, unfeeling diamond beforehand or worn gloves. The idea of someone touching her skin to skin was somehow scary to her.

For the first time he wondered if there was more to her than the horribly cruel and sardonic face she put up normally. Perhaps there was something else, something that had changed her to the way she was now. What had happened to her to make her so afraid of something as common as a touch?

Emma straightened suddenly and all panic was gone. Deciding not to mention it Scott said;

"Find something?"

"You have this mark on the back of your neck. Like a burn but deep in," she said, her voice completely mastered, "An old enemy of mine used to brand his favorite experiments with that. He put some sort of chemical there to control them. Used to work at Alkali Lake."

He frowned.

"Maybe that's why I was there," he said.

"I don't think so," Emma said, "He died nearly a year ago. So you'd been to Alkali Lake, and then you returned. Why is that?"

"I can't remember," he said irritably.

She nodded.

"I know," Emma said, "I'm just thinking out loud is all."

Without another word she had turned and left the room. After that he'd made conscious efforts to avoid even the most casual contact. Once or twice he'd caught her looking at him with a curious expression; like she hadn't expected that sort of consideration. She could never ask him about it though; he had the feeling that she had some sort of reputation to maintain. Why he had no idea but he knew he was going to be finding out, whether he liked it or not.

* * *

><p>Mystique looked around Muir Island, feeling more out of place then she had in years. It was early morning when they got there and but it was spectacularly noisy. A mutant with pink skin greeted them, ushering a group of children across the courtyard. She'd been introduced as Clarice and, to Mystique's surprise, Moira had introduced her as her sister-in-law.<p>

"Why did you do that?" she asked as Clarice left.

Moira had given her an even look.

"It's what you are, isn't it?" she asked back blankly.

She'd made a face then and Moira had sighed. Moira looked at her watch and said;

"I need to go upstairs and administer a saline solution. You can stay down here if you want; I don't have time to show you to your rooms beforehand."

Looking around the courtyard Mystique shook her head. She didn't want to stay there with Clarice; the woman was already looking at her strangely and Mystique didn't want to remember the mutation she'd lost. Although she was getting it back soon she still felt oddly empty.

"There wouldn't be a point," she answered.

Moira shrugged and went upstairs. Mystique followed close on her heels. The woman's gait was strange and stunted, as though some great weight was doing something to her movements, making them jerky. She frowned and wondered how much older Moira was then her. True; Mystique didn't age like everyone else. However, Moira was only around fifty wasn't she? Why did she walk like a woman of seventy?

Her mind drifted to the separation that Charles had enforced for his family's protection. A grudging respect for Moira came then. Mystique had never been one for a long-distance relationship. She had always, even before accepting her mutation, been unwilling to put that effort into something.

However, Moira had done that for twenty years. The stresses that brought on must have been incredible. Even with Charles in her mind, which she had no doubt he had been, it would have been difficult. It was no wonder that Moira seemed older than she was. Then again, she also seemed crushed by her husband's death. It was another great burden to carry; one Mystique had no wish to have.

Moira opened a door to a hospital wing and stepped inside. The drapes were open and Mystique saw a young girl on the bed, tubes and IV's attached to her arms. Several machines beeped away in rhythm and a breathing mask was attached to her face. A few skinny braids with metal beads in them framed her face.

All around her surfaces had been covered in flowers and balloons. Whoever this girl was she was certainly popular. Mystique had never had much time for girls who were too popular; there was too much she'd envied about them when she was young and too much she'd despised when she was older. As Moira prepared a shot Mystique leaned against the wall, feeling bored.

"Who's this?" she asked.

Sliding the needle under the girl's skin Moira said;

"Her name's Amanda Sefton; the only human to have had The Cure administered to her. It's how we know what will happen if The Cure goes unchecked. She's been out for over two weeks, coming up on three, unresponsive to all outside stimulus. Hank's not too optimistic that she'll wake up…"

Mystique yawned.

"She's certainly popular," said Mystique dryly, gesturing to the flowers.

"She's a good woman," said Moira, "She was an exchange student here for two years before she was attacked. She wanted to be a teacher."

"Oh, for a minute there with all the talk about finding out about the effects of The Cure I thought she was someone important," Mystique said.

Moira gave her a bitter look.

"Amanda is very important to us," she snapped, "And she should be to you too."

She barely had time to raise an eyebrow before a child came bouncing in. The girl skid on her feet but still nearly crashed into Mystique. Mystique recoiled from her and stared. The girl stared back at her, cocking her head which nearly upended her paper crown. A backpack had been hoisted onto her back and Mystique could see that her tail held a hairbrush.

"Hello lady," she said.

Without another word she scurried up to the side of the bed. Taking one of Amanda's braids she started to undo it.

"You're here a little early TJ," said Moira.

TJ smiled.

"Wanna get a head start," she said, "Haha. Head start. See; I'm brushing her hair."

True to her words once she finished undoing the skinny braid her tail flicked the hairbrush to her. Taking sections of Amanda's hair around TJ brushed it out, humming to herself. Mystique wondered if the child wasn't quite right. Something must have shown on her face because Moira gave her hard look. So self-righteous.

"She looks better when her hair's braided," TJ said, "Like she's gonna wake up. Are you playing the music Miss Moira?"

"Yes," assured Moira.

"She likes that music," said TJ, "I heard it helps 'em when they're sleeping like this if you play music. Did the tape run down? I'll turn it on."

Her tail flicked a button on the tape player next to her. Classical music filled the air.

"It's pretty," TJ said, "I wanted it to be pretty so she'll have pretty dreams. I think there are some hymns there too, the King has good taste in pretty music."

Again Mystique made the face and again Moira gave her a scathing look. Mystique rolled her eyes. This time TJ seemed to remember Mystique's presence and switched gears.

"Miss Moira, who's the lady?" asked TJ.

"My sister-in-law."

TJ frowned and looked back at her.

"So…David's aunt?" TJ said slowly.

"Yes," said Moira.

TJ made another face and then looked at Mystique. The child's dark eyes looked at her in confusion for a moment before she said;

"So what does that make you to Kurt?"

Something very painful pierced her heart and Mystique stared at the little girl. The question was honest; just curiosity bred from innocent ignorance. Mystique's lips moved wordlessly. Somehow the idea that this little girl, who obviously knew her son, didn't know that she was his mother, hurt her badly.

"You…you know Kurt?" she asked, trying hard not to let her pain come through.

She nodded happily.

"He's nice. He does things with swords. He plays with me," TJ said, "He even taught me a trick with my tail. He has a tail. Did you know that?"

Mystique nodded at the child's ramblings, feeling tears building. TJ finished with the two braids in Amanda's hair and then slid off the bed.

"He's my King in the court," said TJ, "I'm Princess. Amanda's the Queen but she's…she's asleep now…but she'll wake up…"

For the first time Mystique saw something other than curiosity or excitement on TJ's face. The girl looked miserable suddenly. Moira went over and put a hand on her head. TJ looked up and clenched the hairbrush with her hands. Then she tossed it to her tail and went over to the nightstand.

"And I thought, when she does wake up," TJ said, talking more to herself than anyone else, "She should like what she sees, right? So that's why I brought some things from her room; so she'd like it. Or at least feel a little more happy."

She unzipped her backpack and went to an unoccupied night table. With great difficulty she hauled three pictures out. Standing on her tip-toes she positioned them so that they faced Amanda. Mystique realized that she wanted them to be the first thing Amanda saw when she woke up. Mystique shifted so she could see the pictures better. One of them was what she assumed was a picture of the girl's family. The other was her and TJ, TJ in a billowy gown.

The third made her breath catch in her throat. Her son stood behind Amanda. His arms were wrapped around her and her hands encircled his wrists. His head was tilted into her neck, his lips touching her skin. Amanda's head was inclined to him but her eyes were facing the camera, like she'd suddenly remembered it was there. She wasn't in the act of pulling away in embarrassment though; just giving a shy grin.

TJ misinterpreted her expression and smiled.

"They're in love. Lots of it," she said reverently before digging through her back pack for other items.

Mystique looked at Moira who simply gazed at her evenly. Bereft of the strength to answer Mystique looked back at Amanda. It suddenly struck her, in a way that she hadn't really realized, that her son really was alive. He wasn't just alive though; he had his own life, his own dreams, his own loves. Her son was no longer an abstract idea with no name.

It came to her then that maybe she would have been better off not knowing that her son was alive. If he was loved as family by Moira, and she could see the same in TJ's eyes, then would he even want anything to do with her? After all, he had lived his own life for twenty one years now and he'd been perfectly fine without her. Why would he want her now?

Somehow that question hurt even worse than anything else she'd felt that day.


	39. Chapter 39

"Myself and the rest of the Sefton family want to make one thing about this law suit perfectly clear to the world," Margali said, straightening herself in front of the podiums as cameras flashed around her, "We don't want compensation. We don't want Amanda's medical bills paid by Worthington. We don't want any of his filthy cash."

Kurt watched the TV as the mother of his lover stare defiantly at the camera, backed up by her son and husband.

"We want justice," she said, "We want the remaining dregs of The Cure to be destroyed and Worthington to pay for his crime. My daughter is in a coma and thousands around the country are slowly facing the same fate. He needs to save all of them and prevent this from happening ever again. We want every last shred of the information of how The Cure was produced destroyed."

Her eyes narrowed at the camera.

"And we want to know why The Cure was weaponized in the first place, **Mr. President**," she said, "We want you to look us in the eye and tell us that it did more good than harm. And if you can I hope you'll forgive us if we're unable to hold back our incredulous laughter."

The scene cut to the news anchor.

"Tonight begins the first night in the picketing of Worthington Industries around the countries," said the anchor, "And the Seftons began an open law suit. The name of any sufferer or relative of a sufferer of The Cure can be added. The picketers around Washington are becoming increasingly violent as the situation continues. Later we'll have some experts come in and discuss-"

The TV turned off abruptly. Turning his head Kurt caught sight of Azazel tossing the remote behind his head.

"Panic. Like when The Cure first came out, da?" he asked, flopping into a seat.

"You should turn it back on," said Kurt, "I vas vatching zat."

"Well, they were just rehashing it," shrugged Azazel, "Nothing new."

"Zere might haf been," Kurt said sulkily, "Besides, Mrs. McCoy ist still in Vashington. Hank is very concerned about her."

Azazel yawned and shook his head.

"She will be fine, I am sure."

He cocked his head.

"Vhy are you not vith your devochka?" asked Azazel, "You're there most of the time these days."

"TJ's turn," Kurt said, "She deserves zome time alone."

Azazel nodded and looked back at him. Kurt hesitated and then said;

"Danke for postponing lessons."

"Nyet problem," he said, "You really are in no condition to push teleportation boundaries. Sometimes to work under strain is good but…not this time."

Nodding Kurt stared at his hands. Across from him he heard Azazel shift. With a sigh Azazel said;

"Was she worth it?"

"Vhat?" asked Kurt.

"The pain. What you feel now," he said, "I am curious."

He furrowed his brow. Over his time with Azazel he had been asked a few questions that he'd thought were rather odd. Yet, somehow answering them had felt right. David was still his greatest confidante, as he believed a man who was more brother than cousin should be. At the same time he often wondered why he had a feeling he could talk to Azazel about such issues.

It wasn't just that Azazel was willing to talk about these things, although that was helpful. It was also that he seemed very interested and something inside of Kurt was telling him that there was something he was missing, something obvious. He cocked his head and thought about the question for a minute, banishing his misgivings.

"Amanda…is eine amazing voman," said Kurt, "She vas ze first voman I efer loved and I feel zat she ist ze last. Our time together, vhat she taught me, vhat ve felt…I feel as zhough somezing ist missing from my life and ze vorld in general now and…"

He nodded.

"Ja, it vas vorth it."

Looking up Kurt caught a pitying expression on Azazel's face.

"Good for you malchik moy," he said, "Good for you."

Then, still looking pitying and strangely grief-stricken, Azazel teleported away.

* * *

><p>Erik could tell that Lorna was exhausted when the plane touched down. It was so late at night when they arrived that it was almost the morning. Even when she'd been on the plane she had seemed a little tired. Between everything that had happened he wondered when exactly she had slept last. Even so she still managed to direct their luggage to a nearby teleporter and begin the walk to her home.<p>

His eyes appreciatively scanned the Island. Although he felt that his friend had never understood the sacrifices that needed to be made he was certainly a genius. Muir Island was built like a fortress, with high walls and rocky shores. Lorna had briefly explained that it was their secure facility, run by Moira after an incident she wouldn't explain.

Putting that together with what Moira had told him on the day of the funeral he understood. Charles couldn't have found a more perfect place to hide away his wife and son which was what he was effectively doing. He had made sacrifices, although Erik envied the fact that at least he had been able to have an active part in raising his child.

Lorna told him that her house was built as a separate addition to the original complex with the he wall surrounding it. Several of the other teachers had similar houses. Sean had one too apparently, although from the way she talked about him he assumed that he wasn't a teacher. He wondered what the sonic mutant was if not that.

She talked to him a bit about the layout of the Island, promising to give him a tour of the parts he was allowed in later. Her voice caught slightly on the fact that he was only allowed on certain parts of the Island, but to be honest he didn't mind. The fact that he wasn't going to be locked into a small room was, in and of itself, a strange gift.

Besides, he was distracted. On the plane ride over he had made some coins in his pocket twitch. His powers were returning and that was worth much. On top of that Lorna was taking him to **her **house. That meant that unless Alex hadn't spirited them away, which he didn't dismiss, his would meet his grandchildren in non-combative circumstances. The oddity of the occasion was striking.

When they finally got to the house he blinked. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting and knew that he shouldn't have been surprised. She and her husband were teachers at a school that took care of their own. Yet, he had never really wrapped his head fully around the idea that Lorna would have such a particular place.

The house was nicely situated, the lawn well mowed and watered. Flower beds were on either side of the two story house where a few oak trees loomed around it. One was in the front yard. It had a well-constructed tree-house in it as well as a swing dangling down. The signs announced children in the area, but there was only the occasional Frisbee scattered across the yard.

The path was made of cobbles that had apparently been swept recently, made of large stones. They were all even like the greatest care had been taken with him. One patch of concrete bore five sets of hand prints, two of them small and the third miniscule. A porch with a few wicker chairs and tables in front of the red wood door.

Overall the house looked like it came from a magazine. It was personal yet clean, something a family from a sitcom would own. The thought that the mortgage on the house was probably paid, if there had ever been a mortgage, went through his mind. The family inside would be a family that didn't have a care in the world.

Lorna sighed in relief at the sight of it and continued on. This was her place after all, a place she had obviously built with her husband and children. He stopped though, not taking another step in the direction of the house. He didn't belong in houses that looked like they were from magazines.

The fact that his daughter had such a house didn't surprise him; she'd had such dreams when she was younger. She'd told him she wanted a family one day, lots of children, and a man who wouldn't even think of objecting to her having a career. However, the fact that **his **daughter, a creature he'd created when he'd been a bitter and violent teenager, lived in such a house was shocking.

How had she overcome it all, those scared and lost teenage years, her capture and torture, and finding out he was her father? How had she managed to go ahead and continue with her old dreams? What was worse was that, by inviting him in, she was effectively letting him into the door to her life. That was what the house was and more; a reflection of her life. The fact that he was going to stay there with her was deeply unsettling to him.

She stopped soon, realizing that he wasn't coming with her. Lorna turned and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Where to begin? He wondered how to tell her that he was better off alone in the park when the door creaked open. A small girl in a long white night gown peeked out of the door. Lorna turned back as the little girl flung open the door and made stumbling runs towards her. She tripped n the porch but was quickly caught as her brother, also in her pajamas, ran up in a blur behind her and caught her.

His twin came out and stopped, checking to see if his sister was alright. When it became apparent that she was he continued on. His brother made a face, scooping Lorna up and moving in a blur until he reached Lorna before his brother. He stuck his tongue out and the other boy did the same before they turned as one and tackled their mother.

Lorna was sent sprawling onto the grass, laughing. He recognized them all from their photos, although they were all older. Will, Tom, Luna. They were names that had been burned into his memory and written down deep inside him where his 'what if's' went. His daughter got to her knees quickly as her children hugged her, Luna reaching up to be held. Erik simply stared.

"Luna, Will, Tom, it's way past all of your bedtimes," chided Lorna gently.

"You were coming. I was excited," Luna lisped, "Daddy put me to sweep but I wasn't sweepy!"

Tom rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, right. We had to wake her up when we heard the jet," said Tom, "Took ages."

"Did not!" Luna protested.

"One of these days I'll believe you," Lorna said, picking her up.

Luna giggled and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. Her brothers rolled their eyes and elbowed each other as if congratulating themselves on a job well done. In Lorna's arms Luna squirmed, making herself comfortable. Then her silver eyes rolled in Erik's direction and he felt very afraid indeed.

"This gwandpa?" she asked, "Daddy said he was coming."

There was a moment where no one said anything. Then Lorna brushed a few hairs from her face and said;

"Yes."

Will and Tom turned and looked at him. He saw the bruise on Tom's forehead where he'd been hit in the video. Although Will's pajamas had long sleeves he could see the brace on it to strengthen what must have been a sprained wrist. He felt a familiar hate well up in him but smothered it in front of his grandchildren. It would do no good for them to know only that.

He had no idea what he should do though. Never before in his life had he been confronted with young children. Even when he had first met Lorna she had been into her late teens. What did one say to young children? Furthermore, what if those children were your grandchildren?

Wriggling Luna managed to send a message for her mother to put her down. Slowly she walked up to him, her steps slightly clumsy. Her silver eyes were on him again and for a moment she seemed to be concentrating very hard. He saw her childish features soften even more and she gave a big smile.

"No need be silvew," she said, "Not of me."

He furrowed his brow. What on earth was she talking about? He didn't know how to ask her. As he wondered she reached out her arms, her fingers twitching. He stared at her, uncertain.

"She wants to be picked up," Lorna said quietly.

Her fingers twitched again and she looked at him expectantly. Feeling strange he picked her up, trying not to do it too awkwardly. She smiled.

"No silvew," she repeated.

Trying to secure her he noticed that her brothers had come forward and were looking at him curiously.

"Hi," said Tom.

"Nice to meet you," Will said.

He felt something like a smile on his face.

"The same."

"Will! Tom! Luna!"

His head jerked up. Alex stood, framed in the doorway. His face was blank but his jaw was clenched.

"Way past your bedtimes," he said, "Will, Tom, you have your first Danger Room session tomorrow. You wanna fall asleep during it?"

"No," they said in unison, their voices grumpy.

"Not sweepy!" cried Luna.

"Come on," Lorna said, her smile genuine if not slightly turned down at the corners, "We'll put Luna to sleep. She always says that right before she falls asleep."

Erik looked up again to see that his two grandsons had, with a last look at him, gone inside. Alex gave him a hard look before going back into the house. He could feel the restrained animosity bubbling below the surface. At least Alex and him agreed on something; he didn't belong at that house.


	40. Chapter 40

"This place is awesome!" Will exclaimed, looking around the Danger Room, his eyes wide and appreciative.

His brother nodded picked at his yellow and blue jumpsuit. David grinned and shook his head, wincing from the sudden onslaught of his headache.

"Do they really have to give these to the trainees?" Tom asked.

"Think of it this way," Terry said, coming into the room and fluffing her hair out, "You're dressing like your parents did. That's what got me through this awful color combo the first time I put it on."

"Aww, what are you doing here?" whined Tom.

"Training, just like you two," David said, "You need to train year round to stay in shape, even if you don't have a Danger Room."

It was certainly easier said than done in that case. Washington had plentiful gyms yet the types of moves Hank and he were used to doing required more unconventional methods. Once or twice a month they had taken to going into the mountains. It had been inconvenient and David was glad to be back at a place with a Danger Room.

"But she's a girl," Tom said.

"And annoying," said Will, turning to David with the air of an academic, "She's got this weird superior-snark thing going on."

"And she's in the room!" Terry snapped, "I swear, if you keep going then I'm going to scream and when I scream you won't like it."

"Hah! I'm too fast to be screamed at," said Tom.

"Wanna bet?"

"Alright, if we can please move past threatening each other," said David loudly, "Terry is somewhat more advanced than you, so we're going to let her do her run first. Terry, if you'd please demonstrate."

She stepped forward, smirking at the two other boys. David pushed them back and called out;

"Danger Room, initiate sequence four for one, level one."

He gave a glance at the boys.

"You may want to cover your ears."

The room rippled around them, becoming a New York street. Terry stood in the middle of it, looking around calmly as several men wearing masks and carrying guns came to the scene. They began to charge her and she opened her mouth and let out a high pitched scream. Her opponents fell to their knees, clutching their heads. Luckily Will and Tom had taken his advice, or they would be on the pavement too.

Just as the first wave was incapacitated a car sped down the street, two men leaning out the window and shooting. She dodged the lasers and side stepped the car. As the car zoomed past she grabbed one of the men from the window and hauled him to the floor. For a fourteen–year-old she was certainly strong.

Terry gave a short scream before ripping his gun out of his hands. As the car started to come back she leveled the gun at the front wheel, taking it out. The car flipped and turned. Terry scrambled out of the way as it crashed. She looked around her proudly and turned back to the group as the room rippled back to its original appearance.

She tossed her hair as Will and Tom stared at her.

"Yeah, thought you might say that," she said conversationally, "I'm going to be an X-Man before you. I've even got a codename figured out; Siryn. It'll be great."

"You're too young," David said.

"But I'm pretty good, right?" she asked.

"For your age," said David, "But you're still going to train for two more years before you become an X-Man."

She rolled her eyes.

"What if I want to be in the X-Force?" she asked.

"Still two years," said David, "And before you try to protest more I was sixteen when I went on my first mission. And I was **very **skilled."

Terry crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Tom started laughing.

"Looks like you're stuck with us for another two years," said Will.

"Oh shut up," she snapped.

"Again, please," David said, "Have some control. Because of the marginal differences of your ages you could very well end up working on the same team."

"Awww!" moaned Will.

"No, no," said David, "A team is a family. Now then, you may not see eye to eye with Terry but you have grown up around her. She's family in a way already so it should make it easier. You see, in a family you watch each other's backs. That's what you do in a team too."

The words came easily to him, almost as if he'd said them before. David shook his head, feeling a weakness in his knees. Now was not the time.

"Alright," he said, "For now Terry is flight leader since, as you've just seen, she's more than capable."

Both boys moaned but Terry looked proud.

"Now that we've seen the good things about Terry's performance, I'm here to give her a slight critique," he said, "As a team you have to all hear it."

Terry sighed but waited patiently.

"Now, to start with you were good," he said, "And I believe that pulling the man out of the window was a good touch, and you didn't even 'injure' yourself. But did you really have to flip the car over like that? Be honest Terry; did you see it as the only option?"

She hesitated before shaking her head.

"No," Terry said, "I suppose…well…I know they weren't real but I don't like killing them. I suppose I could have jumped on the top or something...stopped the car in another way."

"It's good that you're owning your mistakes," David said, "That's what the simulations are all about."

"Wait, aren't these supposed to be bad guys?" asked Tom, "Don't they sort of have it coming if they're bad guys?"

David was about to answer when Terry stepped in.

"Nobody 'has it coming'," she said, "Everyone can be redeemed. And I think it's only fair we offer people a second chance. It's not fair otherwise."

"But they weren't fair," Will pointed out, "I mean, there were a ton of them and one of you."

"Yeah," shrugged Terry, "But that's what makes us the good guys; being fair and believing in people. It's fundamental to the school. I think it was in the manifest."

She looked at David for approval, her expression one of intense concentration. From the shining in her eyes he could see that she wasn't just parroting something she read, she truly believed her words. Despite her young age there had been passion and conviction there. It did him good to see that and he smiled at her.

"Too true," he said, "Keep believing that Terry and the X-Men will be proud to count you in their numbers."

She beamed at him.

"I will."

"Promise?" he asked, holding out a fist.

"Promise," she said, bumping it with her own.

As soon as her fist contacted his David's headache intensified. He winced, closing his eyes.

"_You'd put your life on the line for a scumbag like Killbrew?"_

_Around him a bare room folded out, dimly lit by a few light bulbs. An old man was in the corner, hunched over something and looking resigned. Towards the doorway was a man wearing a red uniform with black patches, katanas strapped to his back and guns at his hips. His eyes were narrowed behind the mask that covered his entire face and his lips moved beneath the fabric. _

_David was vaguely familiar with him. His name had been Wilson, hadn't it? No, his name had been Wilson but he'd called himself Deadpool. There had been on the Island some years later with Terry. She'd disappeared and her mother had found her making daisy chains with the schizophrenic mercenary. Maeve had bravely snatched her young daughter away but that had been nearly eight years ago. _

_There was someone else in the room as well though, the figure just coming into focus. To his surprise he recognized Terry, although she was a good ten years older. Her red hair swirled past her shoulders and she was wearing a uniform with a red 'X' on the shoulder. A cape reminiscent of her father's was attached to her arms at the wrists. Her hands were clenched into fists but he could feel the tension rolling off her. _

"_Newsflash sister, he ain't worth it!" Deadpool shouted, "Yeah, he __**cured **__me, but I still ain't paid the bill for last time when he destroyed my life to save my body! '__**Fix 'em up, send 'em out…they're just government property, anyway**__!' How could you even think about defending somebody whose respect for human life is so severely impaired?"_

_Terry stared at him evenly, her chin tilting up defiantly._

"_I've stood up for you…haven't I?" she asked. _

_There was a long pause and David felt himself lost. Finally Deadpool said;_

"_Move. I won't tell you again."_

"_No," said Terry, shaking her head, "I won't leave."_

"_I don't want you to see me like this."_

_The words sounded like a confession, as though he were giving away a secret sin. David suddenly began to grasp the situation and could only stare._

"_Tough," Terry said, a single tear rolling down her otherwise impassive face. _

"_Why?" shouted Deadpool, "Why won't you let me do what I have to do? You can't handle it. Just go and forget about me."_

_The last words were somewhat choked. Terry shook her head._

"_How can I forget? There's so much to remember…so much to feel. I could always feel your eyes on me, even when mine were closed," Terry said quietly, "And I took a great comfort in it because when you're around I know that no harm will come to me…that I'm safe to dream."_

_She swallowed and placed one hand on his chest. _

"_But if I'm wrong and that man isn't here," she continued, "if he never existed, I need to know it for sure."_

_The question was plain and David could see that both knew it. Terry wanted him to know that it was either her or killing the man behind her. Deadpool couldn't have both and David could tell that Terry had struggled to make the declaration. Vague snatches of her thoughts came through to him, only one of them complete;_

_**Please…I don't want to lose him. **_

"_This isn't Westchester Terry," sighed Deadpool, "There are no dreams here. That time, it was fake…this is the real me."_

_His words weren't cruel though and David could see the hope on Terry's face. _

"_That's not true."_

"_I'm not a good man Terry. Haven't been for a long time," he said, "I dwell in some very dark places…some Killbrew's partly responsible for, others…he's not. I guarantee you'd never want to go there."_

"_Let me be the judge of that," she said confidently, "Spare Killbrew. Accept his gift and leave with me right now…"_

_Her hands cupped his face. _

"…_and I promise you Wade, you'll never have to face the dark alone…ever again."_

_There was another silence. _

"_Don't make promises you can't keep Terry…it doesn't become you," he said. _

"_I don't," she said firmly, "Never ever."_

_With only a slight glimmer of hesitation Deadpool wrapped his arm around Terry and headed to the door. He stopped at the doorframe to say;_

"_When we leave Killbrew, I want you to run, don't walk. Go forth, find peace or do whatever, but remember this; death stared you down today. Your creation came back to do you in Dr. Frankenstein…and he let you live for one reason only; to save himself. But if I so much as hear a second-hand rumor that you're playing the old role again, you'll run out of words begging me for mercy. Do you understand?"_

"_Yes…yes…thank you Wilson. I swear I'll make amends," the old man said, "You will see that I have changed. Thank you."_

"_Don't thank me Killbrew…I'm just a monster like you…an animal. Thank the woman who believes that I might also be something else."_

_Without another word the two of them travelled upstairs and into the night air, not saying a word. Without moving David was drawn around them, feeling weightless. A car was waiting for them there and Deadpool helped her in gently, like she was something precious. He paused before getting in himself. Terry noticed his sudden discomfort and asked;_

"_Something wrong?"_

"_Yeah...think something's up with the tire," he said, "One second."_

_Closing the door he crouched down, but didn't make a move to fix it. _

"_I'll do whatever I have to," he said suddenly, "I can be a hero. I can be good. Whatever…for her. Because I know…she feels this thing too."_

_He turned around suddenly and glared at David. At first David thought someone was behind him, he hadn't been noticed before after all, but he soon realized that Deadpool was looking at him. Even though he couldn't see the man's eyes the gesture was still incredibly discomfiting._

"_And you tell that to her bastard father in a couple of issues, got that Baby X?" he growled._

"Hey, David?"

David spun back into reality, his eyes snapping open. Terry blinked at him, fourteen again and standing in the danger room. Warmth in his nose alerted him that he was having another one of his nosebleeds. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at the girl in front of him, a girl who, if his vision had been correct, was going to be the epitome of redemption for one man some years in the future.

The fact that he had had the vision was disturbing. Telepaths had been known to see the future sometimes; he was not unaware of the fact, but only during extreme situations. He had only given the girl a fist bump, not delved deep into her mind to see the convictions that would decide her future actions. True, she had spoken her convictions, but that was different.

_Strange yes, but didn't it feel good to know you have that power?_

The thought was a strange whisper, almost like it wasn't his own. Uneasily he noticed that the flow from his nose had been staunched. He gave a bright smile, shoving his feelings down. After all, he was never the most important one. He was in the middle of a training exercise and they came first.

"Don't worry about that; it happens sometimes," he said, "Now, let's see how well you three work together." 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_If you haven't guessed, I'm something of a Deadpool/Siryn fan. The relationship was really weird but I think incredibly deep, especially Terry's capacity to see that he could be good. If anyone thinks Deadpool sounds a little OOC in that interlude, I actually quoted his lines directly from the comics. The line; "_I'll do whatever I have to. I can be a hero. I can be good. Whatever…for her. Because I know…she feels this thing too." was from another issue but I thought it worked well. The only thing I didn't quote was when he essentially tells David off at the end. As for 'her bastard father', Sean took an understandably dim view of his daughter dating a schizophrenic sociopathic mercenary. Deadpool took a dim view of him trying to break him and Terry up. Enough said. __


	41. Chapter 41

Carly had just been in the plane ride from hell. When Hank had called her to come to Muir Island he had only explained that something was going to go down very soon in the mutant community and she should be out of it. He'd been worried and Carly knew her husband didn't worry over nothing.

So she'd arranged a flight the morning the story had broken for two days afterwards, the soonest she could get. Washington Airport was quite busy after all. So she'd still been her home when the news had announced the complications of The Cure. Hank and her lived in a nice neighborhood on a quiet street, far from prying eyes in Washington. Yet, even in that neighborhood she'd heard screams and breaking glass. No one knew how many mutants were out there after all.

She'd called Hank to tell him of her travelling arrangements and get further details. He'd told her, since he knew that the line was secure, they would be treating criminals on Muir Island because of their high dosage and inability to find care. She'd been shocked when she heard the names but oddly unafraid. Hank had told her that she could cancel her plans if she wished, but she'd told him that she felt it would still be safer at Muir Island. Besides, she hadn't seen him in weeks and wanted to be with him.

When she'd gotten to the airport she'd seen that picketers surrounded it. She'd walked uncomfortably through the picketers, the police trying to hold them back. Carly had been in her plane when the riots started outside. From where she was she could see that they had blocked the entrance off and were trying to force their way onto the tarmac.

The pilot had known that they had had to take off or risk having the passengers injured. They'd just barely managed to take off before they burst onto the tarmac. Gunshots filled the air, from which side she wasn't sure. Carly watched them, shaken, as they went higher into the sky. She'd felt those same jitters for nearly the entire flight until she'd landed in Scotland.

Maybe it had been how worried Hank had been that had made her be careless, or maybe it was because she'd been in such a hurry, but either way the reporters had found out that the fiancé of the former Secretary of Mutant Affairs was going to Scotland. She took some satisfaction from the fact that they didn't know that she was married to him yet, but that didn't do her much good when she was assaulted by cameras and rapid questions.

In the past her experiences with reporters had not been positive. A few were interested in the positive side of the story, some even congratulating her on her engagement and focusing on 'introductory articles' as they called them. Others were interested in questions that were far too personal and making snide side comments.

Carly knew that not all reporters were muckraking scandal mongers. She had a few friends who were reporters who hadn't asked her for an interview after the news about Hank and her had broken. She had appreciated their attempts to give her her privacy, that they weren't going to sacrifice her friendship and their morals for a story.

These weren't those reporters. Carly had to fight her way through the terminal to her baggage claim and security, pictures being taken every step. She tried to calm herself down and block out the noise but they kept chattering around her. Carly had never had a bodyguard since she hadn't seen the necessity of it, and her husband had just gotten out of politics. She had seen no reason for such a thing to happen.

However, the President had not yet announced a replacement for Hank. This led to speculation that the department wasn't going to be renewed or Hank would be reinstated. Either way there were questions that they wanted to ask. The line 'no comment' had done its job for a little bit but not enough. Even Carly could only say it so many times before the reporters cut her off in the middle of her words.

Luckily at the baggage terminal was a familiar face. She saw the rage in Hank's eyes as he pulled her out of the cloud of reporters, holding her to him with one arm and her luggage in the other. He practically plowed through the reporters before getting into their car and driving them off. They weren't followed luckily; the reporters had been stopped by rather intolerant Scottish police for several violations .

After half an hour of driving silently the stress of the day had caught up with Carly. The picketers had shaken her badly, especially when it had turned into a riot. She had seen The Cure riots on TV, but had never been so close to them before. Anyone who had hidden their resentment about The Cure and not joined Magneto's Brotherhood had had the last straw now and were rioting on their own.

She'd been unable to sleep on the flight, feeling anxious and worn. The reporters had further rattled her nerves and, combined with everything, it was too much. Carly had started crying quietly, turning away from Hank. She didn't want to embarrass him or make him think she was weak. However, his sensitive ears had picked up on her distress and he'd pulled the car over on the side of the road.

Reaching out he'd gathered her up in his arms, one hand cradling her head and his lips on her forehead. She'd clutched the front of his shirt, remembering how awkward he'd been at the beginning of their relationship about even touching her. Carly was selfishly glad that that was gone, never wanting to let him go at the moment, only wanting some sort of reassurance.

"I love you," she'd whispered at last.

"I love you too," he said, "I'm so sorry about that…I thought…and I heard what happened at the airport…oh Carly…"

"It's okay, it's okay," Carly said, "Just as long as we can stay like this for a little more…I'll be okay…"

And so they had, clutching each other and wondering about the future. 

* * *

><p>Emma was uncertain about what to think of Scott. The way he held himself was obviously in the way of someone who was used to getting respect. However, he managed to get along with Megan. Few people could since Megan usually rebuffed them. His manner with her made her wonder if he'd been doing something with children.<p>

Usually those two things would add up to teacher, but then there were the goggles. They had been especially made for combat and from his muscled frame she could tell he wasn't a stranger to fighting. It didn't quite make sense.

His efforts to not touch her were also interesting. He had noticed that she didn't want him to touch her and was going out of his way not to do so, instead of experimenting with it. He was clever, he would have realized that he was essentially a prisoner and yet he seemed to be cooperating with his captors.

Not that Emma didn't intend to let him go as soon as she found out her answers. Yet, until then he would stay there. At the same time he didn't seem to mind too much, spending his days doing whatever it was he did. He was a good conversationalist and she inferred that he was learned. It was like he was trying to put her at ease around him but she couldn't fathom why. He didn't have his memories; he couldn't be a spy who would steal her secrets if she trusted him. Scott was an unusual one, no doubt about it.

_It's nice to have company my age._

Emma kept having those thoughts and she shook them out. They were definitely something that the White Queen wouldn't think after all. Still, that was probably it. Emma did have peers her age but they were all other in the Hellfire Court. Her conversations with them always had an edge to it. She could talk to Megan about everything but at the same time Megan was like her daughter. You don't talk to your daughter about everything.

She had no intention of talking to Scott about everything either though. There were a few topics she was opening up to him about though, and it wasn't bad. It was actually enjoyable in some instances, especially when she opened the White Queen façade a crack. She was careful though; never too much.

He was still a puzzle to her and one she was almost enjoying solving. Emma rolled her eyes at the thought and finished putting on her white gloves. Megan was training that day and Emma was going to observe, as she always did. Although Megan was quite the fighter Emma believed that one always needed to practice and you really did never stop learning.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she stepped out onto the observation deck above the training room. To her surprise she saw Megan come in with Scott. Megan waved cheerfully.

"He says he'll be my sparring partner," she called up, "We're just doing hand-to-hand today."

"I don't want to set anything on fire," Scott said, a small smile playing across his lips as he tapped his goggles.

For a moment Emma was uncertain. She didn't know how powerful Scott was and she didn't want Megan to get crushed. Yet, if she pulled her out she knew she would assign too much power to Scott and discourage Megan. So instead she smiled brilliantly, masking her worry. Leaning down she called back;

"Have fun Megan."

Megan smiled and cracked her knuckles.

"Ready to start Scott?"

"Ready."

She flipped over and aimed a kick for his ankles but he dodged it, delivering one to her side. Emma felt her breath catch in her throat as the kick went home. She couldn't help but worry, couldn't help but think of the night where Regan and broken some of Megan' sribs. In spite of her pain Megan used his momentum against him and pulled him to the ground with her. For all for all her slight size Megan was a formidable fighter. Emma had made sure of it.

Only those who could defend themselves were safe, or at least as close as they could come. If they were the most powerful no one would hurt them. Emma had tried to convey some of this to Megan, but not too much. She didn't want to poison that precious innocence that her daughter still retained.

Scott pushed himself to his feet as Megan flipped backwards. One of her fists connected with his jaw and he stumbled back, but not before he lashed out with his own fist. Megan managed to dodge but it threw her off balance. Scott pressed forward and tripped her, but she got a good kick to his stomach in first.

Emma watched the two of them go back and forth for some time, watching intently. Sweat sparkled in Megan's bubblegum hair but Scott didn't seem too perturbed. It made her frown. She had conditioned Megan to be able to fight for a long time, and fight well. How long had Scott been conditioned for?

As she pondered this one of Scott's kicks sent Megan hurtling into the wall. Emma threw herself down the stairs, taking them three at a time. She rushed over to Megan's side and raised her head to Scott. In that moment Emma was fully prepared to make him think he was a cat named Mr. Whiskers for the rest of his life.

Instead she found he had drawn level with her, looking concerned.

"Is she okay?" he asked.

Emma looked down at Megan, struggling to maintain the White Queen. Megan was unconscious true, but she seemed fine other than that. She sighed in relief.

"She's fine," said Emma, "If you could just carry her to her room? She'll need to rest for a bit. And don't spar with her again; maybe just give her pointers."

"She's good," Scott said, picking her up, "More than that actually; quite qualified. It's why I didn't go easy with her after awhile, and I can see that was a mistake. We should probably start with Danger Room level eight on her though."

She stared at him.

"What on earth are you talking about?" asked Emma.

Scott blinked uncertainly.

"Oh…I'm not sure," he said, "Probably something I…used to know."

So he'd trained children to fight. It certainly sounded like a mercenary.

"Perhaps," said Emma.

She gave another worried look at Megan. He cleared his throat.

"Forgive me if I'm intruding, but…is she your daughter?"

Emma stared at him, wondering if this was too obvious. Azazel had seen it after a few minutes and Scott had seen it after only a few days. She calmed herself by realizing that no one was with them for a few days straight and Azazel was Azazel. Even so the next words out of her mouth shocked her greatly.

"Not by blood, no."

She'd frozen, aghast that she'd given such a confirmation. Scott nodded to himself, as though he'd expected this but Emma was nearly panicked. Abruptly she took Megan from his arms, her weight a little greater than when she'd been young. However, she couldn't be with him for another few minutes. Who knew what she would say next to cover it up?

"I'll take her from here," she said curtly.

Without looking back she headed down the hallway towards Megan's room, still wondering why on earth she'd spoken those words. She could always erase them from his mind, although she wasn't worried what he'd do with that information for some reason, probably due to his amnesia.

What really scared her was that she had felt like she could say that to him. And that wasn't good; not good at all.


	42. Chapter 42

"Wanna go to the pawk," Luna said, "TJ's gonna be there. Take me?"

Erik sighed and looked down at his granddaughter. She stared up at him, her coat and shoes already on as she eyed him with a hopeful expression. His grandsons were busy in the Danger Room and Alex and Lorna were helping watch the Island's children. Lorna said that their usual babysitter had cancelled, which might have been true, but he also suspected she was trying to give him time with her children.

He looked at Luna uncertainly. She stared at him for a few seconds with her haunting silver eyes before saying softly;

"We don't hafta go to the pawk."

"No, it's alright," Erik said, getting up despite his creaking joints from the stress of recent times, "I'll take you."

Luna giggled and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door. He was glad during the resulting journey that she seemed content to pull him along. Erik had no idea where the park was. However, Luna trod the paths like she had done them her entire life which, he reflected, she probably had.

The park had a small playground. No one was there that afternoon though and Luna sat down on the bench. Erik sat down next to her and looked around.

"You said you were meeting someone?" he asked.

"TJ. She's my fwiend," said Luna, "But she's busy awot. Her mama, not her weal mama but her mama, got sick. So she's with her awot. But she's gonna be hewe soon."

He nodded, understanding little of what she said. They waited, Luna swinging her feet and humming to herself. For some reason or another Luna had taken a liking to him. She'd had him read her a story once, an experience which had felt uncomfortable and yet oddly satisfying to him. After all, he had never done such a thing with her mother.

With Luna on his side his two grandsons had followed. As Lorna had once said;

"Will and Tom may talk tough, but she has them wrapped around her little finger. Where she goes they'll follow. They like you, I'm sure."

Alex had, as he had suspected, taken a dim view of this. He'd found himself in the kitchen alone with him that morning. Erik had watched as his son-in-laws hands' clenched and unclenched as he made his coffee. Erik had ignored him, thinking dryly to himself that he hoped he was more communicative with Lorna. Finally Alex said;

"Let's not beat around the bush with this. I hate you and you know it."

Erik had turned to see Alex leaning against the counter, his hands gripping it. His coffee steamed, momentarily forgotten.

"I hate you being this close to me, I hate you being in my house, and above all I hate you being this close to my children," continued Alex through gritted teeth.

He'd raised an eyebrow, unsurprised by his words.

"And yet here I am," Erik said.

Alex had narrowed his eyes.

"Look, I know you don't like me either. So don't take that tone," Alex said, "And as for the other part I'm a man who is madly in love with his wife. I'd do anything for her, even if I don't like it."

He gestured to Erik.

"Hence how I find you in my kitchen," said Alex, "But I swear, if you step a foot out of line I'll be the first to deal with it. I'm not risking my family's safety."

For the first time in the conversation Erik had actually gotten angry.

"Never forget that Lorna is **my **daughter," he said, "And that Will, Tom, and Luna are **my **grandchildren. I wouldn't dream of causing them harm."

"Yeah," said Alex, picking up his cup of coffee, "And **you **should never forget that Lorna is **my **wife and Will, Tom, and Luna are **my **children."

Alex gave him a cold stare before nodding.

"Just so we understand each other."

Taking a sip of coffee he had left the room. As Erik looked to his side down at Alex's daughter and saw her silver eyes shining at him in concentration. The fact that she'd stopped humming and was now paying attention to him instead was a little scary, even for someone who'd faced as much as him.

He wondered vaguely if this was what Lorna had been like when she was four. It was hard to know; he had never been there. Erik had only seen that part of her life in pictures. Again he felt uneasy and strange. How was he supposed to deal with this little girl? What was he supposed to say?

Luna put one of her tiny hands on top of his and looked up at him.

"Don't be silvew," she said, like she'd said the night he'd come there, "Not of me gwandpa. Not of daddy either."

Erik stared at her as she continued.

"He's bwue because Uncwe Scott went away fowevew," she said, "Me too, and Will, and Tom, and mama. I miss him. He was nice."

He stared at her for a moment longer, wondering why on earth she kept talking in colors, how she had known about his talk with Alex. Then a seven-year old girl came bounding down the opposite path, scattering his thoughts but filing them away for future reference. Erik noted her long black hair, blue skin, and tail. Instantly he recognized her from the footage that showed his grandsons being attacked. Every second of that film had been permanently burned into his memory.

Luna squealed and slid off the bench, running into her friend's arms.

"I'm sorry if I was late. I needed to braid her hair and one of the beads got stuck," TJ said, "but Kurt's with her now."

"You wewen't wate," Luna said, "Not wate at all. Wight gwandpa?"

Luna turned her head to him and TJ gave him a curious look. Under such scrutiny he managed;

"Right."

TJ dipped a quick curtsey before she grasped Luna's hand.

"Come on," she said, "The dragons are laying siege to the castle 'cause the Queen's asleep and the King's with her. We have to..."

Her voice dropped off at the end and she shook her head, as if to clear it.

"We have to defend it," she said calmly, "It'll be a fun game."

Luna took her hand and gazed at her with her silver eyes.

"Wight," Luna said firmly.

The two of them skipped off to the jungle gym and Erik shook his head. He watched them for a few minutes before he heard footsteps on the path next to him. Casually he turned his head and paused. A woman was staring at him, her hair black and spiky. Her eyes were blue and spoke volumes.

"Ah," he said.

"Ah is right Erik," Mystique said, sitting down next to him, "Ah."

Her glare was venomous.

"I'm not going to apologize, if that's what you're looking for," he said stiffly, "I am sorry that it turned out that way, my dear, and I am glad that you postponed my sentence with that poison for a few days. Yet, you really weren't one of us."

"I understand. Doesn't mean I can forgive you, ever," said Mystique, "It's just something to remember I suppose. It didn't make me hate you so much as it made me disgusted with myself."

He raised his eyebrows at her as she looked at the sky.

"And I'm not going to apologize for betraying your camp to the government," she said, "I wasn't a mutant, I wasn't anyone. I had nothing to lose and nowhere to go. Anything to say about that?"

He inclined his head to her.

"I wondered if it had been you," Erik said, "I hope you know I won't forgive you for that either."

"Wonder no more and, to be frank, I don't care as long as you continue to lead. Just like I don't think you do as long as I follow," said Mystique, "It's funny; I got a full pardon for betraying you. They were so desperate. They sold me my freedom for scraps of information that wasn't even worth anything. Disgusting government hounds, the lot of them."

Erik nodded, wondering how the conversation had turned this way.

"As I was saying, it's only a matter of time," she said, "When our powers come back we'll be who we were before all of this. Nothing ever changes."

Her voice was bitter and angry.

"And don't let your daughter tell you any different. We are who we are."

He nodded. Next to him Mystique yawned and stretched.

"So, what are you doing out here?" she asked, "I take walks, but I doubt that was what you were doing."

"I'm here to watch the girl with the brown hair," he said, inclining his head to her, "She's on the swings."

Mystique saw her and let out a snort of laughter.

"Who on earth would let **you **watch their **children**?" she asked.

"Lorna," he said coldly.

Her eyes widened in interest.

"Is that your granddaughter?" asked Mystique.

"Yes," he said shortly, "My grandsons are currently elsewhere."

"Alex never did waste time," Mystique said.

He glared at her and she laughed.

"I didn't know you liked him."

"I don't. But he's their father and thus part of them. I have views on that and I won't have you insult them," said Erik, "My grandsons were the children attacked at Lincross. The blue girl was there too."

"They were?" asked Mystique, "And their mother didn't join you then?"

"I imagine she's too optimistic," he said.

Mystique shrugged and looked at TJ. She hesitated for a second.

"She's not quite right you know, that one," she said, "My **sister-in-law**-"

Her voice was bitter enough to make Erik raise an eyebrow.

"-told me they found her wandering in the woods, beaten and alone," she said, "She found a surrogate mother in this one woman who, from what I hear, protected her at Lincross. She's in a coma now."

"Amanda," Erik remembered.

"Oh, so you know," Mystique said, "Fancy that."

Her voice was dry and it cracked. Erik looked at her strangely as she swallowed.

"I have a son Erik," she said, "I just found that out. I'm not sure if you care, but I have a son."

He looked at her in surprise.

"When on earth did this happen?" he said, "I never asked you to share all of your life my dear, but something like this, you would need to say at one point or another."

"It's the beauty of being a shape shifter," Mystique answered, "And…if you must know…it happened twenty years ago."

Erik gave her a cold look to match the feeling in his stomach.

"From the fact that you didn't tell me I pray, for your sake, that the child was **not** mine," he said.

"No, it wasn't yours," said Mystique, "He was Azazel's."

There was a long pause and Erik mulled over his thoughts, picking what he wanted to say. He wanted to make sure she never forgot.

"You know, I've waited over twenty years to say that to you. Some of those times have been more bitter than others," Mystique said, "Sometimes I thought you'd be angry, sometimes I thought you wouldn't care at all. Which is it?"

Again he glanced at her.

"If you had told me twenty years ago, I would have found a way to make you suffer quite terribly," he said, "I don't know if I would have hurt Azazel, hurt you, or the child. Probably not the child; I don't believe in hurting innocents and he would have been innocent. A bastard, but innocent. I don't know."

She stiffened and he continued.

"Because I did care about you in that way then, not as much as you wanted obviously, but some. And I would have handled it very poorly. You have seen my temper," he said, "But now…hm. I think more logically. You have served me faithfully and will probably continue to do so. There is no reason for you to die. And besides…"

He gave her an even look.

"Back then you would have abandoned no child of yours. I know that. You were still a girl with girlish ideas, no rough in you, only potential," he said, "And feelings from those old days linger with you still; I know that. So whatever hell you put yourself through every day because you had to hide this child or give it away, I think that's a suitable punishment. And I believe I enjoy it rather well."

Mystique looked at him angrily before turning away, tears in her eyes. He gave a brief laugh.

"So I was right. But then again, what does it matter? As long as I lead and you follow?" he asked, "Because you're right, we both know what will happen in the end."

Wiping away her tears she swallowed and gave him a tight nod. With a deep satisfaction he looked back to where his granddaughter was playing. She was balanced on the jungle gym, staring at him wither strange silver eyes. The eyes flickered from Mystique to him, narrowed in concentration. Then she jumped off the jungle gym and headed over to TJ, looking back at him once with a look of bewilderment.


	43. Chapter 43

"David, I don't know," Kurt said uncomfortably.

David bowed his head. Kurt didn't want to cause his cousin any distress; he already looked like he was sick. He couldn't help it though; it was all too much. His eyes slid over to Amanda's still form and let his thoughts wander. Hank said she was stable now, a true blessing. So many of the machines had been removed, especially that terrible breathing mask. Now there was only one IV, but no one knew when she'd wake. It was a horrid feeling.

Now there was this. He sighed.

"I know I said zat I vanted to meet her," he said, "That zere vere so many qvestions I vanted to ask. But…zat vas before…."

"I understand," said David, "But I want you to know that I don't actually think she dropped you in a well. From what my mother tells me she agrees. If anything it seems like she would-"

"Whoze side are you on?" snapped Kurt.

David looked hurt but said;

"Yours Kurt, always yours. I'm just…explaining why I asked you…I suppose…"

Kurt rubbed his temples.

"I know…zere ist just zo much right now," he sighed.

"I understand," said David, "But...you will probably never have this opportunity again. I want you to remember that. And also; this is up to you. Worse comes to worse you'll finally know."

Nodding Kurt gripped his rosary.

"Alright."

* * *

><p>Mystique swallowed and clasped her hands. Her palms were sweaty like they hadn't been in years. Moira had left her mercifully alone in that room; if anyone had been in there with her she would have gone insane with their curiosity. Already she felt like she was being handed a death sentence.<p>

Her son had asked to meet her through her brother's family and she'd complied. It felt like the stupidest thing she had ever done, saying yes. It wasn't like he'd want her when it came down to it. Mystique had heard enough about him to know he wasn't the type of person who'd associate with the likes of her. He didn't run with her kind of people.

She hadn't tried to get in contact with him when she came to the Island. She hadn't wanted the rejection. Mystique had also made no effort to see David, but that had been for a different reason. She didn't want to see someone who looked exactly like Charles with auburn hair staring at her as he tried to figure her out. Charles already understood her, or at least he thought he did. Mystique didn't want to see those eyes vacant of any real strong feelings towards her, except perhaps disdain.

From what Erik had said he was doing exactly the same thing. He still felt guilt about Charles' death, although not even Moira seemed to hold him accountable. Mystique could almost laugh about the man she both loved and hated. He had ruined her life and saved it and she couldn't find it in her to break with him. She thought bitterly about their conversation and twisted her hands again. Everything really was ruined, and she knew it.

"Now I'll make sure you aren't disturbed," said a voice on the other side of the door, "And…I know this is scary for you. But…she may be just as afraid to meet you as you are to meet her."

Mystique swallowed again to prevent from crying out. He was outside the door.

"Alright," the voice continued, "Best of luck Kurt."

She clenched her hands together as the door opened. Golden eyes that were as familiar as her own stared at her as Kurt walked in, his hands in his pockets. She watched as his tail skimmed the floor. He sat down across from her, his eyes fixed on the floor but flickering up every now and then.

"Guten tag," he said softly, "My name is Kurt Vagner."

"Moira told me," Mystique said flatly.

An awkward silence settled between them. Her tongue felt like it had swelled and become incapable of words.

"I…I heard you haf seen Amanda," he said blankly.

"Yes, I have. I don't know anything about her," Mystique said, her voice detached, "TJ was there too. They…you interact with them often?"

The words sounded stupid even in her head. His eyes met hers and he nodded. Suddenly she couldn't stand it anymore. Looking him squarely in the eye she said;

"What do you want to know?"

"Vhat?" he asked.

"You came here because you want to know something, want to find something out. Or maybe you just want to find **something** period," she said, tilting her chin up in something akin to defiance, "I don't know what you're looking for Kurt, and I'm going to be honest and tell you that whatever it is you won't find it in me. But if you want to know something, I'll probably be able to tell it to you. I owe you that."

Kurt looked up at her and she could see her words had hurt him. Mystique suddenly wanted to take them back but she didn't know how.

"I…zat vas not…" he started miserably, his hand clutching something at his side, "Nefermind. You…you say zat you had a miscarriage?"

"That's what they told me," Mystique said, "I'm still trying to figure that out."

"Zen…how…I do not understand," Kurt said.

"Well what do you want?" said Mystique, her voice sharp, "I can only give you what I know."

Again she could see that the conversation was rapidly spiraling out of control. There was nothing she knew to say to correct it though.

"Perhaps…ze truth vould be nice," Kurt said, his voice getting quiet, "Ze truth. I haf lived tventy-vone years on zis earth, vanting to know ze truth."

"You want the truth?" asked Mystique, "The truth."

The idea seemed so ridiculous to her that she couldn't keep the disdain out of her voice. Something like hysteria was rising in her.

"The truth is I was in a relationship with Magneto when you were conceived," she said, "You know, Lorna's father."

His golden eyes widened and she knew what he was thinking.

"Don't worry, he's not your father," she snapped, "You don't have the two wickedest people on earth as your parents, if you were wondering your pious little head about that. It would have been so **easy **if he'd been your father."

He was looking at her helplessly, her words visibly making him wince.

"But he wasn't," she said, "Your father was another member of the Brotherhood that I had an affair with while Magneto was off playing the liberator. He was convenient."

It was such a harsh thing to say but the words were tumbling out of her mouth faster than she could think. They tasted like bile and made her sick to her stomach. How could she say that? How could she expose him to the terrible things she'd done, the things that had led to his conception? Somehow she couldn't stop the words, couldn't stop her bitterness over the entire affair.

"Unlike you. Too soonI was pregnant but I knew I couldn't pass the child off as Magneto's. I had such ideas about that," she said, "So what's a girl to do? I wasn't going to stop what I was doing to raise a child. So, after a little thought, I decided to give you to my brother. He would be fine; he loved children. He had a son of his own. You'd be fine with him. Done and done."

That wasn't true; she had thought about it for an agonizingly long time. Kurt would have been wonderful with David, she knew he would have. Charles would have raised Kurt with David and it would have been like her and Charles, but without the mistakes. Charles would have learned and raised them as equals. They would have been brothers and cousins. It would have been wonderful.

Instead of saying this she spat out poison, words that everyone expected her to say instead of what she meant.

"Then I had to hide a pregnancy for nine months, constantly shifting into something else," Mystique said, "And then I gave birth, or miscarried, or whatever the hell it was that happened. I still don't know. And that was the end of that."

No it wasn't. She'd screamed, hysterical. How could she have miscarried? Mystique had felt lost and scared, lashing out at everything because, despite wanting to give the child to Charles, he was still her son. Now he sat across from her, his eyes closed now and his jawclenched. Oh yes; he was angry at her. Who cared?

_Me! I care! It means everything! _She thought.

"I suppose you hate me for that," said Mystique.

Slowly Kurt shook his head.

"No," he said softly, "I am sad for you."

The words struck something deep inside of her, plucking a cord that shattered something far away. She got to her feet.

"Sad?" demanded Mystique, "You want to talk about **sad**?"

She gestured to herself wildly.

"I'm a shapeshifter! An outcast, even among mutants, trusted by no one!" spat Mystique, "I don't have a life of my own! I just steal little bits from other people's lives!"

The words that tumbled out had been building for so long; ever since she had looked in the mirror as a little girl and seen nothing of value. Not even her powers, the only thing she valued, were with her now. Even then what good were they? They hadn't impressed her brother, her lover, or anyone. They hadn't kept her from making mistakes, from ruining everything.

"But that's how I survive!" she said.

Yes, if nothing else she had at least survived.

Then the words came, the worst she had yet to say, probably the most terrible ones that had ever left her lips.

"There's your truth son. You were **inconvenient**! I didn't want you!" she screamed, "Still sad for me?"

There was a deep silence as she stood, panting out her self-loathing. Her son said nothing, just kept his head down and his eyes closed. She saw now that he was holding a rosary, probably begging God to forgive him for his rage. However, when he raised his head she didn't see any rage; only a profound sadness.

"I vill pray for God to bestow his grace on me," he said quietly, "So zat I may learn to forgife you."

A sob died in her throat. Why did he want to forgive her? His eyes met hers, gold seeing gold.

"Und I vill pray to God to bestow his grace on you," he said, "So zat you may forgife yourself."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. Kurt gave her one last broken look before teleporting away in a puff of black smoke. Sinking back into her chair she began to cry.

"I don't deserve your prayers," she sobbed.

* * *

><p>Kurt sat by Amanda's bed, opening his eyes as he finished his last prayer. Pain was welling up deep inside him. The fresh pain was caused by his mother, but that pain flickered against and reawoke other pains. There was the pain of the continued coma of Amanda, by so many things. He reached out and held her hand briefly before letting go and withdrawing his hand. He just wanted to hold her. He would know that everything would be fine if only that could happen.<p>

He'd already talked to David about what had happened, wanting to talk to someone. He could see the rage in David's eyes. His cousin was the telepath but Kurt knew that David was hating his aunt. However, David had asked him how he felt about it before saying anything. Kurt had simply repeated what he had said to his mother about his prayers, his hope that she'd find a way to become something other than the bitter woman he saw. Although he could clearly see that his cousin was angry he'd said;

"Then I'll do that too. I'm on your side Kurt, always."

He knew he could trust him. The fact that he believed that Kurt was the one who should have the final say in the matter was heartening. He'd found a great friend in David, a cousin, a brother. He wished he could have known him sooner; that Mystique really had given him to Charles. Maybe things would have been better, maybe his uncle could have brought her back and helped her before she became the woman she was. Kurt didn't know what to think of his mother now.

Kurt had gone into that room prepared to forgive her, simply wanting to know a little about the woman who had given him birth. Once upon a time she had been his uncle's sister, a woman so different from what he'd heard. Her preemptive manner and harsh words had erroded the speech he'd carefully planned. He'd retreated until it was just her screaming her own loathing at him. It hurt just to think about it.

His hand reached out and brushed Amanda's temple. On top of everything he still ached for the woman next to him to open her eyes. With each passing day his certainty that everything would be alright faded a little. His hopes were fed on shreds, the shreds that her body no longer needed fifteen machines to keep it functioning. However, she had yet to wake up and Hank had voiced his doubts. Doubts were already creeping into his mind, doubts that he struggled to banish.

Kurt said a quiet prayer for her as well before pushing his chair aside. He had kept his vigil in accordance with his promise to Margali, but he had been doing a similar thing for many days beforehand. TJ took most of her shifts in the day while he took most of his in the night. The girl needed to rest after all and she had to take her mind off this sometimes. She was just a child after all, though a child that loved Amanda desperately.

Moira had, without saying any words, put a fold-out cot near Amanda's bed. She'd noticed how stiffly he held himself after a night in Amanda's room. The gesture allowed him to keep his watch over her while having some level of comfort. He had thanked his aunt quietly for her gift.

Feeling exhausted he lay down on the cot, his body angled so that he faced Amanda. With a deep sigh he fell asleep as his mother's words played out in his head. 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_The First Class Mystique, and the progression of the character in my stories, is incredibly self-destructive. She left her brother to bleed from his wounds on the beach as payment for all the good he'd done her, even if they were drifting apart. She refused a stable relationship with Azazel and opted instead for a bad one with Erik. Now she took out her own feelings of inadequacy on her son. What a mess. _

_Some of the lines at the end are taken from the X-Men TV show episode 'Bloodlines'. It's a truly heartbreaking episode where Kurt finds out who his mother is and Mystique explains his origin. The fact that he could muster up a reply at all to being told that he was inconvenient was awful, as was Mystique's whispered words afterwards. That episode also shows a replay of when Mystique tossed him into the river. Before that episode there was never a zoom up, and there wasn't until the very end. Before it just showed her on the top of the hill and then him being thrown in the river. In this episode we're shown that she was crying when she did it. _


	44. Chapter 44

"Let's try this again," said Emma.

Scott nodded and sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I know our previous attempts haven't been promising," she continued, "But I think I'm nearly there. It's all sealed. And...I think you knew a telepath at one point who put up some safeguards."

"What would that mean?" he asked.

"Just that I have to be a little more careful," Emma explained, "**I'm **the one going into **your **mind after all. Guards could flip that and going into someone else's mind like I'm going into yours is difficult enough to start with."

She put her hands next to his head, not touching him. Her eyes closed and her lips parted in concentration. Scott tried not to think about what her nearness was doing to him. She would hear it all; she was in his head after all. It was hard to feel such things about a person who could read your thoughts, a person who didn't feel anything for him beyond a science experiment.

Emma was strange to him, a woman part of him knew to be cautious of. Simultaneously he wanted to draw her closer. She was a mess of contradictions that he wanted to understand, to be a part of. Somewhere deep inside him he knew he had never experienced that. Something told him he'd always tried to make the right decisions, the best, the most responsible. Something told him that he hadn't been one to take chances.

A pain started in his left temple and Emma withdrew.

"Nothing," she said, "Let's try again."

"Emma, my head is pounding right now," he said, "Can we put this off for an hour?"

"Scott, you're never going to find anything out that way," said Emma, "And I'm certainly not either."

He gritted his teeth again as her hands hovered around his head. So he really was just a guinea pig she was curious about. Emma probably didn't even think of him as a real person. It made sense; he doubted she'd ever cared about anything besides herself and perhaps Megan. Even then a small part of him wondered if her affection for Megan was feigned. She was a remarkable actress.

"Scott, I don't know what you're angry about," she said, "But you need to stop before-"

"We're done," he said, starting to get up.

"Sit back-"

"Let it go," he snapped, jerking his head.

A wave of pain drilled into his skull and he clutched his head, closing his eyes. Emma let out a cry and his eyes flew open to see-

_A young girl with ragged brown hair bit her lip as tears gathered in her eyes. She couldn't have been more than thirteen. Her uniform was prestigious and old, like something from a photograph of the 1920's. A man in a business suit stood in front of her. In the back a woman in an evening gown looked at her nails, flickering a cruel smile at the girl from time to time._

_ "You're a Frost damn it!" the man said, pointing a finger, "And as such these grades are unacceptable!"_

_ "I tried," she pleaded, "Please, father, I tried-"_

_ His hand came back and struck her across the face. The girl gave a small cry and held her cheek, stumbling from the force of the blow. _

_ "Others try Emma, Frosts do," he said, "As much as I dislike advocating education for women it's expected these days. Your sister Adrienne could find it in her to do it, why the hell can't you?"_

_ The woman in the back smirked again. Emma shot her a venomous glare and held onto her cheek. _

_ "Maybe I'm not doing so well because I'm not sleeping with the principal!" she said. _

_ Adrienne's smirk fell off and her father hit Emma again. _

_ "If that's what it takes," he said. _

_ The scene changed. Emma sat on her bed as a young man put ice to her face. _

_ "It's okay Em," he said, "It's okay."_

_ "Christian, he said-"_

_ "Dad's an idiot," Christian said._

_ Emma smiled and held the ice to her cheek. _

_ "I wish I had half of your courage," she said._

_ He smiled at her and put a hand on her shoulder._

_ "You've got courage aplenty. Now, how's your rehearsals going?"_

_ She hesitated. _

_ "I don't know…he was really mad," she said, "If he finds out I'm in a play he'll kill me."_

_ "I won't let him kill you," said Christian, "Besides, you're Cinderella. You're the lead! Come on Emma. I know how much you want this."_

_ Again Emma hesitated. _

"_You don't need him," Christian said, "We've got each other, don't we?"_

"_We have each other," she agreed._

_The scene changed again and she was standing on stage in a white dress, her hair piled up elegantly. Somehow Scott knew that Christian had made it for her. Layers of snowy lace and ribbons tiered down, making her look like she was a delicate snowflake. He could see him in the front row applauding, even throwing roses that Emma caught. Scott could feel her tremble of anxiety; her father would be waiting when she got home. He couldn't take her triumph from her though; couldn't take this applause. She had gotten the role, and not because she was a Frost. _

_A ringing slap echoed in his ears. _

"_What did you think would happen, __**princess?**__" her father demanded. _

_Emma was sobbing in Christian's arms. She looked older, fourteen. He held her closely, rocking her back and forth. _

"_Tell me what happened," he said, "I'm worried about you Emma…you come home and...just tell me what happened."_

_She choked back another sob. _

"_It's Ian…"_

_Christian's face became hard. _

"_What did that little punk do?" he asked._

"_I…I thought…I thought he loved me," said Emma, "I thought it was safe to tell him about those voices…about how I could hear what he was thinking…showed him my skin…"_

"_Oh Emma," Christian said, his face a mask of pain. _

"_He called me a freak," she said, "And then I could see what he was thinking…he never loved me. He just wanted to…to…"_

_Scott clenched his fist. He could see that his feelings were mirrored by Christian. _

"_And then…"_

_She pulled up her sleeve to show a hastily bandaged scar. _

"_He pushed me," she whispered, "And I got hurt…and he kicked me and laughed…I…"_

"_Anything else?" demanded Christian, "Did he do anything else to you?"_

_Emma shook her head. _

"_That's all…" she said. _

"_That's plenty."_

_He rocked her back and forth until she fell asleep, feeling safe from her brother's presence. In the middle of the night she heard a noise and got up. Christian was standing in the bathroom down the hall, examining a split lip. He looked up at her when she came in, like he'd been caught in the act. She leaned up against the doorframe. _

"_What happened?" she asked. _

"_I fell," he said. _

_Emma paused. Scott felt her look into his mind, felt her see that he'd gone after Ian with a baseball bat. He'd broken his arm. _

"_No one hurts my sister you little shit," Christian had snarled. _

_She walked up slowly and wrapped her arms around his waist. _

"_Thank you," said Emma. _

_Christian put a hand on her shoulder but said nothing. Their positions switched ad Christian crumpled to the floor a year later, Emma on the verge of tears. _

"_I can't get out, I can't leave," he said, his eyes glassy and lost, "Every time I try to father has some of his associates stop me. It's a prison Em, one I'm never going to escape."_

_He looked up and saw a bruise on her forehead. _

_"What-?"_

_"He found out I quit the lacrosse team," Emma said, "Started spouting stuff about how I need to carry on Mother's legacy. She was in the room, too doped out of her mind to even focus her eyes."_

_Emma grabbed him by his shoulders and looked him in the eye. _

"_It's killing her," she choked out, "And what you're taking is killing you too-"_

"_It helps me forget that I'm never going to be free to live my own life. Never."_

"_You've got me Christian. That's all we need," she said, "We'll get out."_

_He shook his head. _

"_No Em, we won't."_

_Emma left soon after, swallowing tears. Adrienne and another woman were in the hallway, laughing. Adrienne noticed Emma and smiled. _

"_Why Cordelia, if it isn't our adorable baby sister!" she said, "We're going to be spending lots of time with her, aren't we?"_

"_What are you talking about?" Emma asked, stepping away. _

"_Daddy's sending us to California," Cordelia said, "He figures Christian should be spending more time with the business in New York. I'm sure you'll see him…when you graduate. College. Yes, I'm sure that's what he said."_

"_I'm staying here!" Emma yelled. _

_They both laughed. _

"_You act like you have the power to make that decision," said Cordelia, "God you're stupid."_

_The room began to change. _

"_No escape Em," Christian whispered, "No escape, and now they're taking you away. You're my only real friend, my only real family. There's nothing left for me, I know that."_

_ A hallway stretched out in front of her. She walked down it and tapped on a door. _

_ "Christian? I heard a noise..."_

_ There was no answer. _

_"Christian?"_

_Frowning Emma opened the door. Christian hung from the ceiling, a noose twisted around his neck. His feet swayed lightly in the air and Emma screamed. _

_ "CHRISTIAN!"_

_ He saw her standing forlorn at his funeral. She stood away from the rest of her family, refusing to make eye contact with them. Emma was an island of true grief in an ocean of platitudes and lip service. Scott walked up and laid a hand on her shoulder. It went through her, like he knew it would. Still, he knew she was broken and wished he could help the fragile teenager she had once been. _

_ A man walked up beside her, a predatory look in his eye that Scott distrusted. _

_ "Emma Frost?" he asked. _

_ Emma looked up blankly. _

_ "Yes."_

_ "My name is Sebastian Shaw," he said, "I'd like to discuss a few things with you."_

_ She listened with only slight astonishment when he explained to her about mutants. He began talking of making the world safe for them, for ridding the world of humans. How had he known? Maybe Ian had said something. What did it matter?_

_Sebastian gave her his card, told her to telephone if she wished to join him. That night she stared into her mirror._

_ "You're wrong Shaw," Emma said, staring at her reflection, "The world isn't divided into mutants and non-mutants. It's the weak and the strong; and who the strong decide to protect. My brother was weak, he couldn't hold on..."_

_Her voice caught in a sob. _

_"...not even for me. I wish I could have protected him…I wish I could have been strong, for both of us. If I'd been born first…but I wasn't. Nothing I can do now except continue. If nothing else I'll survive. For him."_

_ That night she took bleach and dyed her hair. It was like ice now, just like she would be. She took her old Cinderella dress from the closet. It was tight around her now; she had grown. With a little bit of work she fit into it. With a final look in the mirror she walked into her father' s study. He looked up at her and his lip curled in disgust. _

_ "What the hell did you do to your hair?"_

_ She smiled, a smile that was far away. _

_ "Made it clear and clean. Unlike that disgusting mop of mud on your head."_

_ Her father got to his feet and strode over to her. _

_ "How dare you talk to me that way?" he demanded. _

_ His hand rose as he went to strike her. Emma turned her skin to diamond and caught his hand. She squeezed and Scott heard the breaking of bones. Her father screamed and dropped to his knees. Emma tilted her head at him, her eyes hard and glassy. She squeezed a little more and her father screamed again. _

_ "Who's the real Frost now father?" she asked. _

_ "What are you?" he whispered through his pain. _

_ The door opened and her sisters came in. They gaped at her and her smile widened. At the same time they fell to the floor, clutching their heads. _

_ "Who has power now?" she asked. _

_ Emma flung her father to the ground by his broken wrist. She turned him over and planted her foot on his arm, crushing it. He screamed again. _

_ "Whatever you want, you can have it," he panted, "The fortune, everything-"_

_ Her eyes lost their glassy look and became full of pain. _

_ "I don't want your filthy money!" she screamed, "I WANT CHRISTIAN BACK!"_

_ She kicked him again and he yelled in pain. Emma's eyes swiveled around the room and laughed. _

_ "Welcome to hell," she said, concentrating and shifting their memories, "Welcome to waking up every day hating yourselves!"_

_Emma threw back her head and laughed. _

_"You'd all best start running when I let you," she said, "The fire's spreading quickly."_

_ "What…fire?" her father gasped. _

_ Emma smiled. _

_ "The fire I started in the attic of course."_

_ When she left the house it was ablaze. She walked past everyone; they couldn't see her. She was in their minds, deleting their presence. The daughter of Nigel Frost would be presumed dead in the fire. Now there was only Emma, and no fire could touch her. She could already control her aging; she would never die. _

_ She watched as Sebastian arrived in his car. She'd called him, told him she was ready and that she was washing herself of her old life. He stared in admiration at her, at the fire. Emma peeked into his thoughts and saw lust and a desire for his power. That's all it was; no love, just desire. _

_It didn't matter; love wasn't going to feature in her life prominently any more, she could tell that. You couldn't survive with love. As for his desires, he was twice her age. He could __**think **__that they were doing whatever they wanted, she could make him do that. Emma could endure having to watch his fantasies, just as long as he didn't touch her. _

_After all, she wasn't a mere mortal anymore. She was so much more than that. Emma was a virgin goddess of ice and snow. She would be on a pedestal, forever desireable but forever unattainable. No one would touch her and no one would love her. It didn't matter since no one was going to harm her either. That was the most important thing. _

_She got into his car, never once looking back. _

When Emma's hand connected with his cheek Scott was snapped back to reality. He saw Emma standing before him, panting and looking like a trapped animal.

"That wasn't yours to see," she whispered.

"I didn't mean-"

"That wasn't yours to see!" Emma screamed.

Without another word she ran from the room, slamming the door behind her.


	45. Chapter 45

Emma bit her nail and looked in the mirror. She recognized the trapped, uncertain look in her eyes and hated it. It was the look she'd had as a teenager, a look she no longer wanted. He knew. He knew and he hadn't had her permission. How could this have happened? How could she, of all people, have allowed this to happen?

Her teeth bit through her nail. She spat the nail out and got up, running a hand through her hair. What was she supposed to do with him? She could erase it from his memory, true. However, she knew that as soon as she did that the tenuous trust he had in her would be gone. For some reason Emma didn't want that, a reason she couldn't pin point.

_You know why_, the White Queen whispered, _And we thought we'd learned after Ian and Shaw. Some virgin ice goddess. _

"Shut up," she snapped.

Footsteps approached her door. She whirled around and heard voices. Megan was standing sentry but she didn't seem alarmed. Her heart sank when she realized it was Scott. Emma was going to have to face her mistake, and much sooner than she wanted to. A bitter feeling came over her as she grabbed her white silk dressing gown and threw it over her nightgown.

She opened the door and leaned against the frame.

"You can let him in Megan," yawned Emma, "And why don't you rest tonight? The building's secured."

Megan nodded at her, only the smallest trace of a question in her eyes. Emma watched her go before turning her attention to Scott. He looked at her nervously.

"What do you want?" she asked.

He hesitated; her manner had thrown him off. Good. She couldn't afford to lose control in front of him again.

"About yesterday-"

"An unfortunate accident," Emma said.

Scott looked at her and for the first time in a long while she felt self-conscious. She became aware of how short her dressing gown was, how even in her night gown she was playing a role. Emma even applied make-up before she went to bed in case anyone saw her. She had to be beautiful and highly sensual at all times.

For a second she interpreted the look he gave her as desire and it disgusted her. Then she realized it was different. He wanted to apologize, she could see that, but overall the look spoke of something akin to desire, but not solely that. It made her uncomfortable and Emma wished she could just shut the door on him.

"I'm sorry about it," he said, "But…was all of that really true?"

Her hand turned to diamond involuntarily, chipping some of the wood on the doorframe.

"Now what kind of question is that?" she asked coolly, "Yes; it was real. Yes; I'm older than I look. Yes; my father was a bastard and my sisters were the scum of the earth. Yes; my brother killed himself. Would you like to discuss anything else while we're at it?"

"I-"

"Maybe we should talk about my fear of being touched," laughed Emma mirthlessly, "Or my cold demeanor, my white clothes. Oh, I'm being rude**. **What do** you **want to talk about?"

He gave her a hard look.

"I wanted to apologize," he said, "Not dredge up more memories. I'm sorry about yesterday. That's all."

She looked at him, her hand slowly turning back to flesh. Emma gave him another hard look before spinning on her heel and going into her room. Too late she realized she hadn't closed the door. Scott's footsteps followed her and her throat seized up. She'd never had a man in her room who hadn't been an assassin trying to murder her while she slept. If it was any other man she could move past it, but it wasn't any other man. It was Scott.

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded, whipping around.

"Excuse me?"

"I look at you and your fighting style, your goggles, and my head screams mercenary," she said, "Fits with Stryker too; he had some pet mutant mercenaries from what I hear. But then I see you with Megan, how you **teach **her. What is wrong with you?"

Scott tilted his head.

"I could say the same. You seem like a frigid megalomaniac," said Scott, "But you love Megan. And your past life…it just shows…"

"It shows what?" asked Emma sharply.

He gave her an even look.

"I've been talking to Megan. Apparently she had a mother who died when she was little. And it looks like she had two older sisters who joined her father in psychological and physical abuse."

Emma blinked at him and held her arms around her as though she was attempting to ward him off.

"She told you that?"

"I can infer," Scott said, "Some skill left over from what I was perhaps. But the funny thing is that that's rather like your old family set-up; absent mother, overbearing father, abusive sisters…all except the older brother."

A coldness settled in her heart. Emma drew herself up.

"You need to leave."

"I'm going to finish first," he snapped, "You saw yourself when you saw her, didn't you? But then you saw that she had nothing; not even a brother who would help her. And you decided you would save her, not from the abuse, but from becoming you."

"Scott-"

"**That's **why you haven't let her kill anyone even though she's your bodyguard-"

"Shut up!

"-why you look at her like she's something you can break. That's what all mothers want, isn't it? That their daughter doesn't make the same mistakes they did."

"You have no right," she said, her voice trembling, "None at all to-"

"It's obvious that you don't like who you are."

She threw her head back and laughed.

"You don't know who I am, what I do and don't like," Emma said, "You don't know anything about me."

"I know more about you than I know about myself," said Scott quietly, "There's a goodness in you."

Her fists clenched and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Scott, let's get one thing straight," she said, "I'm not a good person. I've done much more in my life then take care of one man out of curiosity. I've had people killed; I've murdered. I've kidnapped, blackmailed, extorted, and tortured. And I'd do it all again."

"That doesn't mean you don't regret it," he said, "I think you did all of that because you couldn't see any other way to survive. I don't know what Shaw did to you-"

"He made me safe."

"At the price of watching his fantasies about what he wanted to do to you," Scott said, "And degrading you, sending you to do his chores and errands."

Her eyes widened slightly. How had he known about that? Scott saw the question in her eyes and said;

"It fits the profile of a guy who sees a woman and the first thought that goes through his head is bedding her, no matter how young she is. Makes sense."

Emma shook her head.

"There you go again," she said, "Scott, I don't know where you came from, but I think it was a good place where you could recognize abuse and **help **people. I think you loved and were loved in return. You may even have a wife and kids out there for all we know."

Her voice became bitter at the end.

"I don't think so," he said.

"But we don't know," Emma countered.

Scott took a step closer and looked at her strangely.

"No," he said, "But again, I don't think so. Why else would I be all by myself at Alkali Lake with nothing but a motorcycle? Doesn't sound like a guy with a family. Sounds like I was running."

The point was valid. Emma nodded her head fractionally.

"Besides," he said softly, "I know what I want."

His hand reached out, stopping before it actually touched her.

"I think I love you Emma," he said.

Emma shook her head and moved a little further away from him.

"You don't mean it."

"Read my mind."

"But-" she started.

"Read it."

Deep inside Emma let out a cry of fear. Yet, she didn't succumb to it. Sucking in her breath she stepped up and closed her eyes. She was hit with a wave of warmth, a feeling she hadn't experienced since Christian had let her practice her abilities with him. Even then this was a different sort of warmth, a love that wasn't at all in the familial sense.

She opened her eyes. He was looking at her with a soft expression, one that left her breathless. One of his hands reached out and hesitated. Then he tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. The brief contact lit her skin on fire, pushing her forward and making her head swim.

Her hands came up and pulled his head towards hers. Scott kissed her fiercely, running his hands through her hair and down her back. Somewhere inside of her she could feel walls crashing and ropes snapping. His hands moved down her back; she could feel their warmth through the silk of her dressing gown.

Then his hands were on the ties of her robe, slipping under them and caressing the gown that clung to her hips. The robe slipped off her shoulders and fell to the floor.

_Don't do this_, something inside her whispered, _He won't stay with you. You'll get hurt._

She took a deep breath before sliding herself on top of the bed. He followed her and, despite the goggles, she could tell that his eyes were fixed on her. Emma smiled sadly as the bed shifted under his weight.

_As long as I have him to lose in the first place_, she thought. 

* * *

><p>There had been pain first; the pain in her shoulder. Then it had spread in fire through her veins. Her limbs had lost their strength and TJ had slid from her arms. She had wanted to pick her up, apologize, tell her that it wasn't on purpose. However, something bitter and disgusting had filled her throat and trickled from her lips. The next thing she knew her limbs were flailing and jerking, beyond her control.<p>

Kurt was shouting something she couldn't understand and then she was at Muir Island. There were too many lights, too many sounds, was that TJ crying? Amanda tried to speak with the medical staff but they didn't understand what she was saying. It had been terrifying until she had finally succumbed to the comforting darkness.

Somehow it all seemed so far away from Amanda though, like it had happened ages ago. Her eyes opened as though they were heavy and the room was dark. It was night already? Night came late in the spring and summer, so it made sense. Amanda had the feeling that it had been more than a few hours though.

The flowers and trinkets from her room that were scattered around only seemed to emphasize that. She began to feel somewhat afraid as she struggled to push herself into a seated position. One of her arms was connected to a water solution; she recognized it as a hydrant from her days helping out in the intensive care ward at the school. Feeling scared and lost Amanda yanked it out of her, shivering slightly.

Feeling a slight panic rising she turned her head to the side. Her heart stuttered in a cry of relief; Kurt was there. Of course he would be; she knew he would never leave her. With a small sigh she shifted again, her limbs feeling oddly stiff and uncomfortable. It was like they were worn with disuse. Her hand reached out and her fingertips touched her beloved's familiar face, tracing one of his tattoos.

His golden eyes snapped open and he jumped up. Kurt's hand encircled her wrist and he stared at her like she was some sort of unfathomable miracle.

"Kurt?" she asked, surprised.

The syllable had barely left her lips when he had moved to the bed and gathered her into his arms. His head buried itself in the crook of her neck and his breath came against her skin, warm and wonderful and familiar. Kurt began to rock her back and forth, his grip not loosening for a second.

"Miene engel," he whispered, practically crying, "Du bist wach, du bist wach, oh, miene reizend engel. Danke gott, vielen dank…"

Relishing the safe feel of his arms she cuddled closer to him, his arms holding her tightly. When he pulled away she nearly cried from the loss of contact, only to have his lips crash down on hers. She nearly pulled back in surprise. It was unlike any of his tentative kisses in the past. He'd always been so afraid that he was going to cut her with his fangs. The fear was gone now, all that was left was wanting to feel her closer.

He pulled away again but held her close, his forehead touching hers and breathing deeply.

"Oh, I haf missed you miene engel," he murmured, kissing her forehead, "I haf missed you so much."

Amanda said nothing, just letting him hold her. Her fingertips stoked his face, content in his reassuring presence.


	46. Chapter 46

Moira felt that, despite her required presence, she was intruding. Of course, the ones she was intruding on probably didn't care. Kurt had his back against the headboard of the hospital bed. Amanda rested her head on his chest, his arms around her. They didn't even look like they knew she was there.

They barely seemed to be aware of Hank, Amanda's physician. She had had the emergency call button pressed a few minutes ago. Moira had come, though she had only rudimentary medical experience, because she was nearby. When she had discovered the cause she had sent out a call to Hank. After all; he would need to see this.

Amanda held out an arm to Hank as he took her temperature and performed a few motor tests. She seemed fine. Moira was there to give back up in case it was necessary. She highly doubted it was but she wanted to err on the safe side. Too much had happened already for her to be anything but cautious.

David had been there too until a few minutes ago. He'd given his cousin and Amanda a smile but had known that there was no need for words. Soon afterwards Kurt had mentioned that he should probably get TJ. David had cut in and volunteered to fetch her instead. Kurt could have done it much quicker, but everyone in the room knew that he was unwilling to leave Amanda at the moment.

Hank took out a small flashlight.

"Follow it with your eyes," he said.

She nodded and did so. Moira could see that Amanda was becoming slightly disoriented by the motion, but her motor skills were unimpaired. Kurt noticed as well. He put a hand on her forehead and whispered something in her ear. She smiled as his tail came up to wrap companionably around her waist as though to somehow draw her closer.

Moira leaned up against the doorframe and swallowed a lump forming in her throat. She had tears forming in her eyes, and they weren't the tears of joy they should be. Yes; she had cried with happiness when she'd first seen it, but these were different tears. She knew that she should be happy for her nephew. He and Amanda deserved any shred of happiness, especially if half of what she had heard about the meeting with his mother had been true.

Simultaneously she couldn't help but be reminded, watching those two, that the love of her life was gone. One of her fingers idly traced Charles' ring where it lay on a chain around her neck. Her own scraped slightly up against it and her fingers paused. For a moment she closed her eyes, involuntarily bringing up old memories.

_"Are you sure you're strong enough? We can put this off."_

_ Moira shook her head. _

"_Never do tomorrow what you can do today," she said. _

"_Yes, but-" started Charles. _

_She adjusted her bathrobe before taking her first step. A month and a half had passed since her capture by the Brotherhood and she hadn't been anywhere without crutches or someone to accompany her. Her foot ached under the pain. An ache in her side started up when she got to her feet, but she had gotten used to it. She took a few hobbling footsteps towards the door and reached it triumphantly. _

_ "Told you I could do it," she said, "No crutches tomorrow morning? Better yet, can I go on a jog around the grounds in a few minutes?"_

_ He gave her a blank but studying look. It was a familiar one and she laughed to see it. Sometimes he really couldn't take a joke. _

"_You have got to be joking," said Charles, "It's nearly midnight."_

"_Well, I'm joking about the jogging," shrugged Moira._

"_Good."_

"_It's midnight. I'll wait until it's light out."_

_He gave her another studying look and she burst into laughter again. _

"_Someone's giddy tonight," Charles commented drily. _

"_Okay, okay, I was kidding about that too," she said, "But how about no crutches? For real, no tricks."_

"_No sweetheart, you're going to have crutches tomorrow," said Charles firmly, unable to keep the glimmer of a smile off his face, "Just as a precaution. There's too much that could go wrong."_

_ "Well how about my old room? Can I move back to my old room?" she asked. _

_ "Too many stairs," he said dismissively. _

_ Sighing Moira got back into her sick bed, her back facing Charles. He moved slightly and began rubbing her shoulders. She leaned back into his touch. _

_ "That feels good," she whispered. _

_ His fingers increased their movements and she leaned back a little more. She was aware that her bathrobe was slipping slightly, but she barely registered it. Then there was a slight hesitation in Charles' ministrations. She frowned slightly before she felt him kiss her bare shoulder gently. _

_ The slight contact sent electric shocks throughout her body. Moira took in a sharp breath as he moved his lips from her shoulder to her neck. She moaned before she felt his lips leave her skin. She turned back so she could face him and met his eyes. They were dark and glittering before he closed them. _

_ "Sorry," he said slowly. _

_ "Don't be," Moira said. _

_ She reached out and touched his face. He looked up at her and took her wrist. Charles looked down and sighed. _

_ "You…I just want…" he said, "You probably have a pretty good idea of the life I led before you met me."_

_ "What, you mean drinking and using lousy but charming genetic pick-up lines on girls?" teased Moira._

_ He smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes. _

_ "Among other things," he said, "I never held a long-term relationship. Never saw the point of it really and-"_

_ She could see that he was uncomfortable. Moira cut in quickly, trying to relieve some of that discomfort._

_ "You don't have to-"_

_ "No, I do," Charles said desperately, "Because…I can honestly say I've never met anyone like you. I've never met anyone I could love like I love you."_

_His words were touching but there was an edge of pain to them. _

"_For the first time in my life," he said, "I'm so scared I'm going to ruin this. Look at what happened already."_

_ "That wasn't your fault!" she protested. _

_ Charles shook his head. _

_ "We'll lay fault another time," he said, "I just…I just want to let you know that I don't want…I don't want-"_

_ She cut him off by sliding out of her bed and into his lap. She leaned in and kissed him passionately, relishing in the feel of his lips moving under hers. His hands came up to the back of her head, stroking her hair. When they came apart his eyes were glittering again and he was staring at her like a man dying of thirst would at the ocean. _

_ "I want you Charles," she said, kissing him lightly on the lips, "Always."_

_ Charles smiled, this one genuine. _

_ "You have me Moira," he said, "Always."_

Biting her lip Moira forced her own feelings down furiously. This wasn't about her and she refused to make it such. This was about two people being reunited. That the love she had been separated from would never hold her again meant little in that moment. This was for them, only for them.

"Amanda!"

She turned and saw TJ bounce into the room. She scurried up the side of her bed and launched herself into Amanda's arms. Amanda gave an exclamation of surprise, but folded her arms around the little girl. TJ was giggling excitedly as David came up behind Moira. She smiled at him and then looked back at the scene. Moira blinked.

TJ's giggles had abruptly turned into sobs. Her tiny hands clutched the front of Amanda's gown and Amanda held her tightly.

"I thought you would go away…" she sobbed, "Everything always goes away that I want and I was afraid-"

"I'm not going anywhere," Amanda said.

"You were though," said TJ, "Daddy kept telling me you wouldn't but I was so scared…I just wanted you to wake up mommy…I just wanted…"

Nonplussed by the use of the titles Amanda leaned down and kissed TJ on the forehead. Kurt brushed some of her hair out of her face and dried her eyes.

"It's okay," Amanda said, "I love you too TJ. It's going to be okay."

TJ lifted her tear-stained face and gave a smile, showing her white fangs.

"Of course it is," TJ said, "We're all together, aren't we?"

Something inside of Moira sat up and took notice of the expression on TJ's face. For the first time Moira could see that TJ was all there, really all there. Part of her wasn't off playing princess, not for the moment. She was only TJ in that moment, only seeing things through TJ's eyes, seeing things as they were.

Moira realized that Amanda and Kurt had been entrusted with TJ by some higher power, perhaps the same one that had entrusted them with each other. She had needed them and, in a way, they had needed her. TJ had brought them together and, in return, they had helped her bring herself together.

It was an enormous responsibility for such young people to bear. However, from the look on Kurt and Amanda's faces, it wasn't one that they resented. She wondered when these three had formed their own little unit, when they had realized that they were family. Had it happened gradually, or was it something that had just snapped into place?

She began to wonder how long it would take for Kurt to ask Amanda to marry him. Moira wondered how much time after that it would take for them to adopt TJ. It was going to happen one day; of that she had no doubt. She had a feeling it would be fairly soon too.

Gently she tugged on Hank's arm. He got the message and walked out. Moira put a hand on David's shoulder and led him out as well.

* * *

><p>"One year younger than me and he has a wife and child," David said when they were a safe distance away from the hospital room.<p>

"You saw it too then?" asked Moira.

"I'd have had to be blind not to," he replied, smiling, "Wonder if I'll be best man. It seems like such a foregone conclusion, those three. I should have seen it from the beginning really; it's like they're the pieces of a puzzle, fitting together."

His mother smiled at him and he opened his mouth to say something. Another headache came to him suddenly, like the one he'd had in the Danger Room.

_TJ was standing alone in a thick darkness. Her hair was shorter and, if David had to guess, she looked like she was somewhere in her twenties. Every single part of her was tense and her fists were clenched. She turned around her, her glowing eyes searching for an enemy, for anything. Though her expression was wary she was all together there and alert. _

"_Talia Josephine Wagner? Also known as Nocturne of the X-Men?"_

_She turned and saw a middle-aged man standing across from her. He was bald and wore a sweater vest, a pleasant expression on his face and his hands in his pockets. He would have looked exactly like a college professor if not for his pure black eyes. TJ's eyes narrowed and her tail swished threateningly._

"_Who are you?" she demanded, "Take me back!"_

"_You can call me the Timebroker. But I'm afraid I cannot do the second."_

"_You sure as hell can!" she shouted, "I-"_

"_I am aware of what you have to do. And Jimaine and David will have their sister back to go to Lincross, rest assured," said the Timebroker, "But first there's a matter we need to discuss. You see, you've been displaced from time."_

David coughed into his hand, blood spilling from his lips onto his skin. Next to him his mother's eyes widened as she looked from the blood to him.

"You've never done that before," she said.

"I'm fine," David said.

His mother shook her head.

"David, you're not fine," said Moira, "You've got to see Hank about this."

He looked at the blood on his hand and opened his mouth to brush his mother's concerns away. Then, suddenly, he began to wonder why he wanted to.

_It's none of her business. _

He frowned at the thought. Just like in the Danger Room the thought seemed alien somehow. One of his fists clenched.

"Don't worry," he said, "I'll see him tomorrow."

_You shouldn't give in. _

"Promise?" his mother asked.

_She's controlling you, telling you what to do! Are you going to take that?_

"I promise," he said.

_ Coward. _

David ignored the strange thoughts. He only wished he could do the same with the vague sense of disquiet that they left behind. 

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**_I originally took TJ, or Nocturne, from the comic series 'The Exiles', a spin-off of the X-Men. The Exiles are members of the X-Men from different dimensions who have been displaced from time. They have to go around and fix universes until thier own timeline has somehow been fixed and they can go home. In another universe TJ actually was Nightcrawler's daughter._


	47. Chapter 47

"Stay still."

TJ nodded obediently and Amanda resumed plaiting her hair. TJ had abruptly asked if she could cut it. In the past TJ had always explained that, as a princess, she had to keep her hair long in case a prince had to climb up it. The fact that she wanted it shorter now was surprising, but Amanda had complied.

Now, with her hair shoulder instead of ankle-length, TJ had Amanda braiding it into small braids like she had. Unlike Amanda TJ wanted all of her hair in the braids with the metal beads. It was a time-consuming process but Hank had allowed Amanda to go outside to do it. Being in the fresh air after being cooped up for so long in a hospital room was wonderful.

As she started on another braid a woman came into the courtyard. Amanda didn't recognize her, but she had been in a coma for two months. A lot had happened in that time . She caught the woman staring at her and Amanda wondered if she had gained some sort of fame as a coma patient.

To her surprise the woman began to back away.

"You don't have to do that," Amanda called out, "We'll be fine with you here, won't we TJ?"

TJ turned her head.

"Sure," she said, "You're that lady from that one time. Hi lady!"

The woman gave a tentative smile.

"I really should be going," she said.

"You just got in here," said Amanda, "We don't mind you here, we really don't."

The woman looked at her uncertainly before walking up and sitting down on the bench. It was the only one in the courtyard but Amanda noted that she sat as far away from them as possible. At first Amanda wondered if she was uncomfortable around TJ because of her appearance. However, no one would be on Muir Island if they were uncomfortable with people with visible mutations.

"I'm Amanda Sefton," Amanda said.

The woman hesitated again.

"Raven Darkholme," she said finally.

"Nice to meet you Ms. Darkholme," said Amanda.

"Just Raven," Raven said, waving the name away, "I don't like either name to be honest, but I **really** don't like my last name."

"Why?" asked Amanda, "It's…German right?"

Raven shrugged.

"I wouldn't know," she said.

"My parents were German," she said, "They immigrated to America before I was born. Got themselves naturalized."

"Good for them," Raven said dryly.

Amanda frowned at her tone.

"Meaning?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Raven, brushing the words away, "Just…nothing."

She sighed and looked over at TJ.

"Are you two related?" she asked.

"She's my mommy," TJ said happily.

Amanda smiled and slipped a bead into TJ's hair.

"Not biologically," said Amanda, "But when I first started the exchange program TJ just leapt into my arms. She's been with me ever since."

"Except when you have to go away," said TJ grumpily, "I don't like it when you go away. You're going to come back again, right?"

"Yes, yes I will," Amanda said.

She finished up the braid and looked at her watch.

"It's three," she said, "Isn't there somewhere you need to be?"

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed TJ, jumping out of her lap, "Luna! See you tomorrow!"

In a skipping gait TJ ran out of the courtyard. Amanda shook her head.

"She's a little forgetful," Amanda said, "But Luna means a lot to her. They're three years apart but the best of friends."

"I think I've seen Luna around," said Raven, "Little girl, brown hair and silver eyes?"

"That's the one," Amanda said, "I don't know, she just seems to get TJ, keep her grounded in reality. She's remarkably serious for a four year old."

Raven smiled slightly.

"TJ's a sweet girl. Moira- I mean Dr. MacTaggert," Amanda corrected herself, "told me that TJ was abandoned. I don't know why she latched onto me, but I've been entrusted with her somehow. I'm…"

She hesitated and then crossed her arms. What did it matter who she told? She'd already made up her mind to do it

"I'm going to adopt her when I get a little older," said Amanda.

An incredulous and slightly condescending look came into Raven's eyes.

"I know what you're thinking; who does this girl think she is? She's too young, hasn't graduated college, just came out of a traumatic experience, whatever," said Amanda, "But I'm going to do it. As soon as my life stabilizes, I get a job, and then I'm going to adopt her. She already goes around calling me mommy and my mother supports me. So does the rest of my family, and Kurt of course."

Raven stiffened ever so slightly.

"Kurt?" she asked, her voice low.

"My boyfriend," Amanda said, "And before you start thinking I'm too young for his opinion to matter in the long term you're wrong about that too."

Her fingers wrapped around her heart-shaped locket.

"I've been blessed in recent times; lots of good people around me," said Amanda.

"I heard you were in a coma for two months," Raven said dryly, "A coma caused by intolerant supremacists who injected you with a faulty 'cure'."

"I woke up," Amanda said.

She paused again.

"Apparently there was this one point when I flat lined," she said, "Just for a few seconds, but…but my heart stopped. I wasn't awake to be frightened, but I was very scared when I found out about it afterwards."

Amanda leaned back and sighed.

"It's odd. You see things differently after that. You learn something about yourself, about the people around you," said Amanda, "I knew my mother was strong before this, but then she led the rest of my family to fight in my name when I couldn't. And Kurt…"

Her hand tightened around her necklace.

"I knew he loved me," she said, "But…he almost never left my side when I was out. And I know that if I hadn't woken up he would have continued to be with me. I just do."

Next to her Raven took a deep breath. Amanda breathed in satisfaction. The woman beside her was finally understanding.

"And TJ, TJ called me mommy for the first time when I woke up," she said, "And I knew, deep inside me, that it was right. I don't know if you have any children…but it felt like it was meant to be."

Amanda opened her eyes and looked over at Raven. To her surprise she saw that the woman had tears in her eyes.

"I do have a son," Raven whispered, "But he's…we don't…"

Suddenly Amanda understood. Her eyes raced over Raven's face. There was something about the structure of her face and jawline. Her nose stood out as familiar. Her realization must have shown on her face because Raven quickly got up. Without thinking Amanda's hand shot out and grabbed hold of her wrist.

"He's not angry at you," Amanda said, her voice pleading, "Not really."

"Let go."

"Please ," said Amanda, "He just wants to talk, he just wanted to understand-"

"Amanda," Raven said, "trust me when I say that he wouldn't want to understand me if he knew what that meant. Now please let go."

"But-!"

"You should probably do as she says devochka."

Amanda turned and saw Kurt's teleportation teacher leaning against the wall. Raven went pale and her mouth opened slightly.

"She is very dangerous woman," he said.

"She's Kurt's mother," Amanda said defensively.

He gave her an indulgent smile.

"Ah, so trusting. But it is time for you to go inside Amanda," Azazel said, "You know; doctor's orders. Kurt would not be happy to have you tempting immune system."

She sighed and let go of Raven's hand. Amanda got up to go and gave Raven one last pleading look.

"Please, just talk to him."

Raven looked away and Amanda sighed. She left the courtyard, looking at Azazel and Raven out of the corner of her eye. There was a look between the two of them; his of smug superiority and hers was just sick. An uncomfortable thought began to grow in her mind. Not everyone with tails and fangs were related. However, she was sure that at least **some **of them were.

The thought made ice go through her veins. 

* * *

><p>When Amanda left the courtyard Azazel turned to Mystique.<p>

"Such a wonderful young woman for Kurt," he said, "Patient, accepting, pretty, somewhat intelligent. Not mutant, but not bad."

He smiled.

"How long has it been Raisa?" asked Azazel, "How many years?"

Mystique stared at him, swallowing.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"I have been here longer than you," he said, "Months longer. Watching **my** son."

Something about the way he said 'my' clicked in her head. It was posessive and protective with just a hint of a laugh. She raised her head, feeling a tremor deep inside of her.

"You did it," she said.

"Did what?"

"Everything!" she snapped, "You took my son from me!"

The smirk slide off of Azazel's face. He teleported so that he stood inches in front of her. His hands formed manacles around her wrist and pinned her to the wall, hitting her head hard against it. Azazel's lips curled in a snarl, showing his fangs. She stared at him, trying to force back her fear.

"**You **would have taken **my **son!" he snarled, "He was mine! So do not say who took whom!"

She summoned up her anger, the anger that had come from believing she had miscarried a child twenty years ago only to be told he was alive.

"The Wagners told him he was thrown in a well," she spat, "But that didn't happen! Was that your idea?"

"Amazing what little money will do," Azazel said, "Give it to doctors, intimidate. Next thing my son is in my arms and the whore is wailing."

Mystique gritted her teeth and glared at him.

"And then you abandoned him with those people?"

His hands tightened around his wrists.

"Nyet!" he growled, "Gave him to family to raise. Told them lie to tell about mother, but you might as well have. Could not raise him myself, thanks to **you**! Needs two!"

She struggled as he lifted her away from the wall and slammed her against it again. Mystique saw stars.

"Not so strong without mutation," he hissed, "All you had to do was say da, all you had to do was come, trust, love, but you could not!"

"I didn't want you," she snapped.

Azazel laughed and leaned close so he was speaking into the shell of her ear. A shiver went through her as he spoke.

"You said differently at night," he whispered, "Moaned my name and begged for me then. But when light came you went to **him**."

He slammed her against the wall again. Responses and words were mingling; her head was swimming too much to form anything terribly cohesive. However, she managed;

"I wanted to give him to Charles! He would have been loved there!"

"Da, and cut me out."

"He was my son!"

He threw back his head and laughed.

"Have you seen him Raisa?" Azazel asked, "Oh yes, your beautiful golden eyes and skin."

A smirk crossed his lips.

"When you had them. Perhaps a feature or two in the face. But nothing else! Nothing," he continued, "Now; think carefully. Tail. Ears. Fangs. Catholic. He teleports. He fights with swords. Even speech patterns. They are **mine**!"

Azazel laughed again as Mystique's heart plunged into her stomach.

"Once you told me he was your son, not mine. But look at his life! All by my instructions. Even name was given by **me**," he said, his eyes gleaming, "If he was ever yours it was when you carried him. But now, in this world, he is mine Raisa. Mine!"

Tears of anger and despair spilled out of her eyes.

"I'll tell him what you did."

"What would be point?" he asked, "Da, you say I am here. Big trouble with X-Force. Who cares? You cannot prove what I did. To Kurt your word against mine. And know what?"

He leaned close again.

"I have been with him in the light for months," he said, "Taught to control power. Advised him. I have been confidante. Compare to mother who can only spit venom. Who will he believe?"

Despair grew within her. Azazel laughed again.

"At first I thought nyet, should not meet her," he said, "But you did a better job ruining things then I could. You're a plague, ruining everything you touch. If you say anything, I will tell him how you planned to take, but not what I did. And you hating me may help. I will tell him I looked and looked, and that will be true too. And the X-Force may get me, da, but my syn will see me as father. You will not even be mother."

Azazel's smirk grew wider.

"He is mine Raisa, now and forever," he said, "I will let you live; a gift for giving birth to **my **son. But do not tempt me."

With a swish of his tail he teleported away. Mystique collapsed on the ground, sobbing. Everything was gone, everyone she had ever cared about. Her brother had died and her son would leave her soon. Azazel was right; he wasn't hers. She had forfeited the right to him when she had told him she had never wanted him.

Mystique was so lost in her grief that at first she didn't hear the footsteps that came into the courtyard. When she finally looked up she saw Amanda staring at her, her expression somewhere between horror and pity. Her son's lover knelt in front of her and put a tentative hand on her shoulder.

Without a word Mystique resumed sobbing, only this time, she wasn't alone.


	48. Chapter 48

Despite the violence that had surrounded her from an early age Megan had lived a relatively sheltered life. Certainly she'd been exposed to want and cruelty at a young age. However, Emma had spirited her away to a safe place. She'd taught her how to defend herself and those she cared about. She'd taught her to control her powers, to regulate her aging after several years. In short Emma had taught her to be fearless.

However, she hadn't taught her several things. She had been homeschooled out of necessity. Emma's curriculum was different from most schools. Besides, Megan didn't exactly look normal. Her appearance would draw questions which would lead to connections which would, in turn, lead to trouble.

Megan had had no friends but Emma growing up. The rest of the Hellfire Court couldn't be trusted. It was the number one lesson that both Emma and Megan's father had told her. It was the only lesson of her father's that Megan thought worth remembering. She had never been allowed to play with the children of other members of the court while she lived with either of them.

Although Megan had learned much from Emma, there had been several omissions. Emma had been so concerned on teaching Megan how to survive that she'd left out several more practical lessons. Megan had only been taught about the birds and the bees after a man had made a comment about her. Confused she had repeated it to Emma. Emma's face had hardened and later that night Megan had seen that man clutching his head in agony. Megan had been sixteen at the time, at least physically.

So she had a basic knowledge of such things and she knew how to use her head. It didn't take her long to realize that Scott and Emma were sleeping together. Megan had felt uneasy about that. Emma could put explicit fantasies in men's heads when she wanted something from them. However, what did she want from Scott? He was an amnesiac.

Besides, Megan quite liked Scott. He was kind and fun to be around. The idea of Emma manipulating him for something troubled her. At the same time she wondered if that was what Emma was doing at all. If she just wanted to manipulate him then she could easily plant the thoughts into his head. It would be the easiest thing.

So why was she not doing that? Megan thought about it long and hard as she watched the two over the next few days. Sometimes Scott would put a hand on her shoulder and whisper in her ear. Emma would smile at him, not her fake smile that she used for Hellfire functions, but a genuine one.

The idea that Emma wasn't manipulating him slowly dawned on her. She watched them with bated breath, whispering silent prayers at night. Were they in love? It certainly seemed like it, but Megan had only books to guide her on such a relationship. Emma had never been in love, at least not when Megan was around.

She proceeded gently, afraid to upset this equilibrium. At the same time she felt a little sad and alone. For the longest time it had been Emma had her, no one else. They were each other's friend, family, mentor, student, employer, servant. They were a world in and of themselves, albeit a world that revolved around Emma. Megan didn't know where she fit in now that Scott had joined them.

One day at breakfast Megan caught Emma staring long and hard at her. Afterwards Emma motioned for her to go into the other room and shut the door. Megan realized she must have picked up some of her thoughts. Emma had been in her head for such a long time that Megan didn't see it as strange or an invasion of privacy. It was necessary for them to know what the other was thinking, they depended on it. At the same time Megan knew she refrained from doing it casually unless it was some sort of emergency.

Guiltily Megan shifted her feet and looked to the ground. Emma put her hand on her shoulder and tilted her chin up.

"Megan," she said.

"I'm sorry," said Megan automatically.

Emma's brow furrowed.

"What are you talking about?"

"I…what I was thinking," she stammered, "I just…I don't know what's going to happen now…everything's been exactly the same for so long…"

"You mean what's going to happen now that Scott's in the picture?" asked Emma.

Megan nodded silently. Emma sighed and turned away.

"I was under the impression you liked him."

"I do," Megan said hurriedly, "He's a great guy, and he's taught me a lot about fighting. I'm really improving and its…he's um…nice…"

She trailed off, feeling like an idiot. Emma gave her a reassuring smile. Sitting down Emma clasped her hands together.

"Scott likes you too, if it helps," Emma said, "He says you're very advanced and responsible for your age."

"I'm older than I look," shrugged Megan, giving a tentative smile and the compliment.

"Aren't we both?" asked Emma.

There was a pause.

"Do you love him?" asked Megan quietly.

The question seemed to shock Emma. She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

"I haven't loved much in my life…but I wouldn't have let him into my life so intimately if I didn't," she said, her voice soft, "Yes, I love him."

Emma looked down.

"We never talked about what to do in this situation," she said, "Mostly because I never thought it would come up."

Megan sat down opposite her but said nothing.

"You know that…that you're not just my bodyguard," said Emma, "I raised you. I never thought I'd have children, but when I had you I realized I didn't want them. Not now that I had you."

She looked up at her and Megan struggled to hold back her tears.

"The funny thing is…both of our fathers were assholes," she said, "And now we're in a position where someone is slipping into that role for you…slipping into a completely new role for me, one where there's actually…"

Emma trailed off before waving the rest of her words away.

"I just want to tell you that nothing is going to change between us," she said, "You're my family Megan; not the asshole whose genes I carry. I'm not his daughter; I dyed him out of my head."

Megan cocked her head at the expression but too many emotions were welling up in her for her to question it too much.

"You'll always be my family, even if it gets bigger by some bizarre miracle," Emma said, getting up, "You know what I mean?"

Pushing herself out of her chair Megan stood in front of Emma.

"I do. And you're my family; all of it."

A genuine smile crossed Emma's face before she wrapped her arms around Megan.

"We're going to be just fine," Emma said, "Just you wait and see." 

* * *

><p>David felt his head swim as he lay down on his bed. This hurt beyond anything that he had ever felt. His joints burned and he felt like every fiber of his muscles were breaking. It wasn't just pain though; it was the constant disorientation and occasional confusion. He'd cancelled the Danger Room session altogether for that day.<p>

His mother was right; this wasn't stress, something was very wrong with him. He'd scheduled an appointment with Hank later that day. David hoped it was simply that he was getting his second wind of powers and, with his extra carrying capacity, his body was taxed in keeping up with it all.

However, he had been doing a little research of his own. Mutants generally got their powers during early adolescence. Even those like him who displayed their powers at birth progressed at a set rate. Later in life they would get a second wind, a strengthening to reinforce the first set. It seemed like it was evolution preparing them for lives protecting themselves. It was quite ironic in several ways.

However, most mutants received this second wind around thirty-five. David was only twenty-two. Even powerful mutants like his father had gotten that second wind at thirty. He was far too young for such an ordinary diagnosis. David had started to feel something like fear build up in him as he realized that he couldn't explain what was happening.

_Is that such a bad thing? Don't you like the power? Couldn't it be great if only you had the courage to use it?_

He bit his lip until he drew blood. There was that voice again. It was different from the voices he'd heard all his life. There was a slight lilt to it that the others lacked. The others were always angry or spiteful. This one was almost amused, light, as though it were engaged in a game with an opponent who was far beneath their level. At the same time it sounded like they liked an uneven playing field, something else which frightened him.

His headache began again and he rolled on his side. He didn't know what else to do. He'd already turned off all the lights in the room and it was completely silent. David hadn't slept at all last night though and his body was starting to tremble. He'd only been outside of his room briefly so his mother wouldn't see him and worry. She would have every right too, but she had enough to deal with.

Amanda was awake and Kurt was happier than he had seen him in a long time. He should be celebrating but all he could feel was this cold sense of dread. David had vomited blood that morning. Everywhere he looked there was blood, too much of it. He wondered why his body was rejecting it; he had no internal bleeding, no injuries.

Wanting to shut out some more of the light he closed his eyes.

_"I've seen her memories. I know you two were there. I saw you using the same methods Shaw used on you; torture and intimidation. And you did more than that, didn't you?"_

_Erik's face flushed._

_"Charles, I didn't-"_

_"Using her memories against her, why?" demanded Charles._

_"We wanted information, but we didn't-"_

_"Psychos," Alex said._

_Hank growled in punctuation._

_"I never thought, not even in my worst nightmares that you'd stoop to this," said Charles._

_"We didn't-" Raven said._

_"Don't lie."_

_Raven tried to say something else when Erik stopped her._

_"Who cares if I did or didn't torture her?" Erik shouted, "She's just a human!"_

_An unearthly silence descended over the assembled mutants. Charles felt something deep in the bottom of his chest. It was painful and harsh, like someone was stabbing him._

_"And what are you Erik?" whispered Charles, "What are __**you**__?"_

David sat up, gasping in pain and clutching his head. Those weren't his memories. They weren't even the strange glimpse of the future that he had been receiving. They were something else entirely and he nearly cried out from the headache they were causing. Where were they coming from?

_Does it matter?_

"Yes," he snapped, "It does matter. I've fought so much for my sanity…I don't want to lose it…oh, don't tell me I'm going mad…"

_Sanity can only hold you back. Madness will set you free. _

Despite the pain he shook his head, denying what the voice was saying. He wanted it to leave and take these strange glimpses of power with it. He didn't want it.

_That's what they all say. _

A cold feeling built up in his stomach and he scrambled out of bed. He ran into the bathroom and flipped the light on. Gasping again David threw cold water on his face, hoping it would shock his system into order. Drying his face he gazed into the mirror and stared at himself. Something was wrong with his eyes.

He pulled the lids apart. The flecks of red were more pronounced and the white was rapidly disappearing as he watched, fading into black. The blue he'd inherited from his father was almost gone, becoming rapidly swallowed by the redish black. Feeling a sliver of panic he let go and stared at his face.

Veins around his eyes were becoming more prominent, each with a grayish tint.

"_You would die for them?" she asked scornfully. _

"_No. Not for them," Logan said, his voice strained, "For you. For you."_

_Jean's eyes came into focus. For a moment David saw the woman from his father's school, polite and clever, an X-men and a teacher. For a moment she was Jean Grey again. _

"_Save me," she pleaded. _

_Logan's face contorted. David could tell then that his choice had been made before he'd even come to Alcatraz. He had known what he had to do after all. _

"_I love you," he choked out. _

_His claws plunged into her stomach as he held her. They both cried out, Jean from physical anguish and Logan from mental. A stabbing, burning sensation forced its way into David's head and he cried out too._

Understanding came struck him like a bolt of lightning. He stumbled away from the mirror, looking at it in horror.

"**NO**!"

_Too late. _

David gave one last terrified look at the mirror before running out into the hall. He had to stop this, but unlike Jean there was no one to save him. He'd have to save himself.


	49. Chapter 49

_**A/N: **I'd like to thank QueenoftheSouthernSun for doing a picture of a determined-looking Lorna on Deviantart under the name CarryAwayTheMagic!_

* * *

><p>Kurt waited nervously inside of Amanda's room. She should have been back an hour ago. Hank had prescribed bed rest for the next few days, although he had mentioned that she needed to get out a little. Amanda's legs were stiff from disuse and her movements were jerky. Piece by piece her strength was returning, although she had yet to walk very far.<p>

As a treat to her a few days ago Kurt had teleported her outside the castle grounds for an hour. She'd wanted to stay longer but he couldn't allow her. Hank had told him her immune system was too weak. So, as much as he had wanted to please his lover, he had taken her back inside. She'd also sighed over the fact that her door had to stay open out of necessity. Hank had reassured them that there shouldn't be any complications, but Kurt wasn't going to risk her health. If he had to call someone from down the hall he wanted them there faster than even he could teleport.

Her family was still tied up in the states and that left him as her guardian. Their legal battle prevented them from leaving, although Amanda had already had a very emotional phone call with them. She had cried when she'd heard what they'd done for her and yet still desired that they were with her. Hopefully they would be there soon.

Where she was at the moment was nerve-wracking. He knew he shouldn't worry too much; the Island was a safe place. However, Amanda was one to push her limits. He sighed and sat down on a chair away from the door, his hands clenching and unclenching in agitation.

He didn't think that he was overeacting. He had her back after two months of worrying and praying and he didn't want to lose her again. No matter what had happened with his mother he was complete with her, a missing piece of his soul returned to him. Kurt only wished that his mother could understand him so he could share this with her.

The door began to open and, struck with a sudden thought, he teleported behind it. As the door open he saw Amanda walk in, closing it carefully behind her. He smiled; she hadn't seen him. He waited for a few more minutes before teleporting centimeters away from her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

She gasped and stumbled. Kurt held her tightly so she wouldn't fall and kissed her quickly on the lips. When he pulled away he saw that hse was frowning.

"Don't do that!" she protested.

"Vhat, kiss you?" asked Kurt, giving a mock frown, "If zat ist vhat you desire, of course, but-"

"You know what I mean," Amanda said, rolling her eyes.

"Vell, maybe I vill, maybe I von't," he said, "Oh, but I do like doing vhat you vant."

"I want a lot of things," she said, toying aimlessly with the collar of his shirt.

The look in her eyes was hard to misread. Kurt swallowed and shifted his grip on her. With a nervous lick of his lips he let his tail wrap around her arm.

"Vell…vell…" he stammered.

She smiled and kissed his lips, parting hers beneath his. Kurt allowed himself to get lost in the moment before pulling away.

"As long as you vant me, you haf me," he said, "Vhich I hope vill be forever."

He paused, wondering if he'd gone too far. The unspoken question seemed painfully obvious. In his head Kurt had worked out the practicality of trying to marry Amanda. They were too young when he really thought about it. There was too much up in the air for the two of them; there was no stability. Amanda was still in college and Kurt's future was uncertain.

However, he had decided he would take up Moira's offer of a job at the school. It had been his haven and, in turn, he would help it be a haven for others. He'd talked it over with David, who still seemed to be sick, but he'd assured him they'd get it sorted. Kurt had been happy to hear that; that would be one thing fixed.

Amanda would graduate in one year. He'd ask her then, maybe a few months after she got a job. He didn't want to rush things but he knew that he wanted nothing more than to make her his wife. The thought of losing her had crushed him deeply; a feeling that he never wanted to experience again.

Then, maybe a year later to show they really were stable, they could look into becoming TJ's parents for real. He knew that Amanda would approve of the idea. TJ had seen Amanda as her mother before she'd even met Kurt. It seemed, at times, as though she'd been made for the two of them. If they ever had biological children, a thought that made him blush, people would be very hard pressed to tell which one was adopted.

He'd spoken to Azazel briefly about that, surprised that he felt such confidence in saying it to him. David was the only one he had spoken to about it in detail, showing him a dream that he hoped would become reality one day. However, Azazel had seemed both impressed and saddened by what he said. It was puzzling, but then again there was so much about that man that puzzled him.

Kurt shook it off and looked anxiously at Amanda. She smiled and kissed him again.

"Your hopes have a solid basis," she whispered.

His breath caught and he smiled. A sudden flicker of worry came over Amanda's face and he frowned.

"Engel?" he asked.

"There's something I need to talk to you about Kurt," she said, "I...I don't think you're going to like it..."

He felt his grip on her increase involuntarily. She had just said she would stay with him, so he knew it wasn't that she was going to leave him. Something in her tone worried him though.

"I met your mother a few hours ago," Amanda said.

Kurt sighed and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Miene engel," he said, "Ve...miene mutter does not vant to see me. I haf thought about it; I cannot change her und-"

"Kurt, that's not it," said Amanda, "I heard something and...you have a right to know."

He cocked his head. Amanda was biting her lip in worry and he wondered just what his mother had said to her. The idea that she'd told her something terrible made his stomach churn, but he knew that it was a very real possibility. Her eyes met his and she held him with her gaze. She swallowed.

"I-"

The pounding of feet interrupted her. Kurt looked up in time to see David run past the open door. Sweat covered his skin and his eyes were sunk deeply into his face. There was a terrified, hunted expression on his face. He ran as though hell itself were chasing him.

Immediately Kurt teleported to the doorway.

"What is it?" asked Amanda.

His cousin rounded the corner and inexplicably Kurt felt a flicker of fear. Somethign was very wrong.

"Call miene tantchen, eferyvone you can," he said, still looking after his cousin, "Tell her somezing ist vrong vith David. I zink he's going for ze northern battlements. I'm going after him."

He saw her reach for her bedside phone as he teleported. Wind whipped around him as he stood on top of the battlements. His range had increased greatly since Azazel had started teaching him. He saw his cousin climbing the opposite side, the same expression on his face. To Kurt's surprise he was moving quickly, nearly at the top of the eight story climb. His fear increased as he teleported over to him.

When he got there David was on the outside of the rail, looking behind him at the drop with frantic eyes. He snapped his head to the side when Kurt teleported a few feet away. Kurt took note of how pale and scared his cousin was. Veins were standing out against his eyes had his shirt was soaked with sweat. Kurt had no idea what was going on, but he knew he had to help him. He took a step forward.

"Don't come any closer," David warned.

Kurt stopped. He had no idea what was going on but his brain was making its own conclusions; conclusions that his heart rejected. Whatever it looked like David, the David who had been his constant supporter in the turmoil that had become his life, was not going to jump.

"Lieber vetter, vhat ist going on?" he asked.

David shook his head, tears starting to come down his cheeks.

"I can't explain…there's no time," David said, "Not even for telepathy…it's too strong…"

He looked up at Kurt.

"But Kurt…please…you have to let me do this…"

A sharp stab of fear struck Kurt's heart.

"Do vhat?" he asked, praying that the answer wasn't what he thought it was.

His cousin broke down sobbing then.

"You have to let me fall," he said, "When I jump…I know you can stop me...but please just let me fall…"

"David," Kurt said, struggling to keep his voice calm, "You don't mean zat."

"I do!" David said fiercely, "You don't understand, you don't!

"Zere is nozing to not understand," Kurt said, "You should not do zis! It's-"

"A sin?" demanded David, "That's what you were going to say, isn't it? I know that's what you think but it's not, it's mercy, it's mercy…"

Swallowing he let his eyes flicker between his cousin and the courtyard. Moira and the others should be coming. They would talk sense into him if he couldn't.

"Your mutter ist coming," Kurt said.

David gave him a despairing look.

"No…she can't know that I'm doing this," he moaned, "It'll destroy her…after father…bad enough that I need to die…"

Kurt's eyes widened.

"You do not **need **to die," he said.

"I do," David said, "But she can't know that it was this way though…not that I did it to myself…what would she think…she can't…"

He shook his head again.

"…she needs to think it was an accident…"

"She vill know zat you did it," Kurt said, suddenly seeing an opening, "She ist already on her vay. I vill tell her vhat happened if you jump before she comes. If after, she vill see. Zere ist no vay for her not to know."

More tears streamed from David's eyes.

"Please, vhatever you are feeling," Kurt pleaded, "Do not do zis. You are my family, miene **only **family, a brozzer, bitte…bitte…"

David shook his head.

"You don't understand, you don't understand…" he whispered.

"Zen explain!" Kurt shouted, "Let me understand, tell me vhat ist going on!"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Moira rush into the courtyard, followed by the rest of the X-Force. His mother was with them, something that shocked him. Had Amanda called her? It didn't matter. From where he was he let his gaze flicker to Moira. Her eyes were wide and he could see her tremble even from where he was. Her feelings mirrored his; shock and panic.

Kurt saw David follow his gaze. He remembered what he'd said about his mother, hoping it would stop him. David looked with sadness at the people down below. He swallowed.

"It's too late; I'm sorry," he said.

Kurt saw him let go of the rail and plummet. He teleported a split second afterwards, calculating his cousin's velocity and the position he'd need to teleport to. Azazel's lessons had prepared him well for the task ahead of him. He caught David quickly and teleported him to the courtyard below, despite his struggles.

Together they hit the courtyard hard. Kurt saw stars but managed to sit up. He saw Moira put a hand to her mouth as she took a tentative step forwards.

"I haf him," Kurt assured her, "David I don't know vhy you-"

"Amazing," whispered David, "He actually tried to kill himself. That's a new one; the others were far too scared."

David looked up and smiled, the expression alien and gruesome. His eyes were closed but he soon opened them to reveal pitch black eyes, flecked with red.

"Didn't do him any good though," David said.

He titled his head and Kurt was thrown back against the wall painfully. Moira rushed forward but she was thrown back along with Kurt's mother and the members of the X-Force. The rest soon followed and David got to his feet, cracking his neck. He flexed his fingers experimentally.

"The body's weak," he declared, "He fought for too long to be in prime condition, even if he wasn't aware of it."

Kurt stared at him and narrowed his eyes.

"You are **not **miene lieber vetter."

The thing occupying his cousin's skin cocked his head and smiled condescendingly at him.

"Oh, how did you know that?"

It threw its head back and laughed.

"No, I'm not," it said, "I'm more than that."

It stretched out its hand and Kurt was thrown to the middle of the courtyard. With a jerk of its head Kurt was lifted into the air, struggling.

"Thank you for stopping him," it said, "If he died it would have ruined my vessel. He wasn't very accommodating, not at all. Still, all of you X-Men disgust me."

He moved his fingers slightly. Kurt began to feel the skin peel and flake from his flesh. He cried out in pain.

"This will be slow," it said, "One atom at a time."

Suddenly Kurt felt a hand at his shoulder. He looked up to see his mother pushing him away, the contact just enough to make him fall to the ground. Kurt scrambled upwards, staring at her with large eyes. It grimaced angrily and threw them both back against walls. Kurt knew he should be worried, but he couldn't tear his eyes off his mother.

"You should have stayed hidden Mystique," It said, "Mothers."

Skin started to flake from her neck, drops of blood floating into the air. She clenched her teeth but nonetheless a hissing sound escaped her lips.

"Stop it!" Kurt demanded.

It rolled its eyes.

"You people, so concerned with each other. You're all going to die. There are no more cages, not anymore," it said, "Did you know that David Xavier is a very unique mutant? Not just a mere telepath; one who absorbs others' minds. It was so crowded in here, but I'll get rid of the rest soon enough. There's no room for them in my world."

"What have you done with my son?" Moira demanded, "Where is he?"

It considered her for a minute before stretching out its hand. She was shoved deeper into the wall but she didn't make a sound.

"Westchester," It said, "Yes, Westchester. About thirteen years ago. Christmas. The memory has been tweaked a little, but it was a nice place to tuck him away in. He'll never even know what's happening."

It smiled again.

"In any case, David's not here right now," It said, "But the Phoenix is, and will be for a **quite **some time."


	50. Chapter 50

**_A/N: _**_The first part of this chapter is dedicated to Erica Dawn who suggested it in a review for 'Sins of the Father'._

* * *

><p>Everything was a soft black, comforting and warm. He felt hands shaking him.<p>

"David."

He groaned and rolled over.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled.

"David! It's Christmas!"

David opened his eyes and saw Kurt at the foot of his bed. His tail swished excitedly and David oticed that he was wearing his winter coat and boots. Despite their age difference of a mere year David always felt like the cousin he'd been raised with was years younger than him; he was always so excited. David pushed his nine-year old self up and looked at the clock by his bed.

"Mom and dad won't let us open presents for another two hours," he said.

"But it's snowing outside!" Kurt said excitedly, "We can play!"

"It's snowing?" asked David.

He threw his covers off and ran over to the window. Peeking out of it he could see the fat flakes fall to the ground. Snow wasn't a rare occurence at Westchester, but for the previous two years there hadn't been any around Christmas. He looked over at his cousin with wide eyes.

"Awesome!" David said.

"I know!" exclaimed Kurt.

Kurt teleported into David's closet and came back seconds later with David's coat and boots. He waited impatiently as David put them on, his hands fumbling with the zipper.

"Ready?" asked Kurt.

"Ready," David agreed.

His cousin's tail wrapped around his wrist and, in a puff of black smoke, they were outside. A smile stole across David's face as he looked up at the sky that the snowflakes rained down from. Next to him he knew Kurt was looking up with that same sense of wonder and delight.

"Come on," said David, "Snowman time."

Together they gathered up snow in their cold hands. Kurt could pack more because of his tail, even if a lot of it got into his hair. Snow was already falling into his hair though, so it didn't make much of a difference. After a minute they had to stop to put on their gloves, Kurt admiring the special ones that David's mother had made for him.

David had just given the snowman his scarf when he felt a cold glob of snow go down his neck. He looked at Kurt in surprise, who had an affected air of innocence about him.

"What?" he asked.

Narrowing his eyes David sent several snowballs telekinetically at Kurt. Kurt teleported out of the way and threw another one. This time David caught it with his powers and slingshoted it back at him. It hit Kurt in the face and knocked him back. His cousin quickly began forming a new snowball and David sent out feelers with his mind.

"This couldn't wait until **after **presents?"

The two of them turned guiltily to see David's parents walking towards them, his father shaking his head.

"You worried your mother," he said reproachfully, kneeling down next to him before giving Kurt a look, "And you your aunt."

"It was snowing," Kurt said defensively.

"So I can see," laughed Charles.

Moira stood next to him and put her hand on the snowman's head.

"You were worried too Charles."

"Well yes, but I'm the one that found them," he countered, "I get anxiety points taken off for that I believe."

"Mmmhm. I don't think so. You were just about ready to use Cerebro," Moira said.

David couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped him. Charles rolled his eyes.

"Moira," he sighed, "you're embarrassing me in front of the boys."

"I'm your wife, it's my job," said Moira.

She turned to David and Kurt.

"So, I assume by your avid concentration in the snow that you're not interested in your presents anymore?" she asked.

"Of course we are!" Kurt said hurriedly.

"Then come in," laughed Moira.

She took David's hand who in turn took Kurt's. Charles got up and took Kurt's other hand and the four of them walked inside together. They tramped through the entryway, their boots leaving snow on the floor. David and Kurt threw off their coats before joining the rest of the school's children who were seated around the tree.

David got comfortable and levitated a present to himself and Kurt. They were both wrapped in similar wrapping paper so he knew it was from his parents. He began to tear away at the bright paper and opened the box. A toy sword was inside, perfect in every detail. Looking up he saw that Kurt had a similar creation. They stared at each other with grins on their faces.

"We saw how much you loved the knights at the museum," Moira said, "Thought you'd like to have something other than sticks for swords."

"Less chance of splinters that way," added Charles.

In awe David drew his sword from its plastic scabbard. He saw that Kurt had done the same. A look passed between them before they both leapt to their feet.

"En garde!" cried David.

The plastic of the swords clanged together, their combat noisy and undisciplined. Moira and Charles laughed as they clumsily tried to disarm each other.

"_No referee, so…en garde?" David said. _

_With a flourish Kurt's sword flashed forward, his feet moving quickly. David blocked and started to advance. Each lunge was followed by a deft dodge. They went back and forth for a while, the ground churning beneath their feet. David felt challenged, although he knew Kurt was better than he was. When the two of them finally stopped Kurt had scored five points to his cousin's one. _

"_That was…I haven't done this in so long," said David, cracking his neck, "That's what I'd like to say anyway. But no excuses; you're really good. You could probably teach me a few things. Several really."_

_He paused. _

"_Would you?" he asked, "Teach me I mean."_

_Kurt grinned. _

"_Ja."_

David stopped suddenly, allowing Kurt to land a hit.

"Point!" he cried, "I win! I win!"

Feeling strange David stared at Kurt.

"This isn't right," he said.

Kurt frowned.

"What?"

"We've fenced before, with real swords," said David, "Lots of times."

"No we haven't," Kurt said, "Your mom won't let us handle anything sharper than scissors-"

David cocked his head.

"Kurt," said David slowly, "Where's your accent?"

A look of unease came across Kurt's face. David felt his father's hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright David?" he asked.

He whirled around to face his father, his eyes scanning him.

"Why can you walk?" asked David, "You can't walk…I remember when I was little I used to sit in your lap and you'd wheel me around the school."

His eyes vacillated at the figures around him.

"And I'm nine!" he said, "Why am I at Westchester? You never let me come back after I was eight! You never-!"

"That's quite enough."

The room paused. David looked around and a bright light came to the middle of the room. He had to shield his eyes at first but as it grew brighter it became easier to look. He let his hand fall from his face. A silhouette of terrible light walked before him, crossing its arms and looking at him…affectionately? Or was it condescendingly?

"You're that thing," he said, his voice trembling, "In my head…in Jean's head…"

"You're not very charitable," the Phoenix said, "I'm a being of eldritch power, and yet I came to you for help. Just a vessel and I gave you such power. And I made you happy."

David looked around him.

"You killed all those people-" he said.

"Isn't this a wonderful place?" the Phoenix interrupted, "Your cousin was raised with you, just like you wanted. There were no terrorists and you and your mother never had to leave your father's side. He was never crippled. You all lived together as a family in one place, never bounced around from place to place. No voices in your head, everything perfect."

He could have sworn it was smiling.

"Isn't this a wonderful place?"

His mouth opened before it shut.

"It's all you've ever wanted David, don't try and pretend otherwise," said the Phoenix, "I've been in your head long enough to know that you want this desperately."

David gestured around him.

"It's not real," he said.

"To you it is," said the Phoenix kindly, "And that's all that matteres. All the other vessels stayed wrapped up in it, content to have what they wanted. They didn't look much further; Jean a little. I won't lie; she was my favorite. I'd been with her since birth like all the others."

It held out a hand.

"I had to graft myself to you. But that doesn't matter," it said, "I don't descriminate. You're unique, very much. I needed a new vessel and there you were, all grown up. I'm surprised you noticed something was wrong, but it's okay. I can make you forget that I'm here, that everything is anything other than how it is now. You can still be happy here."

David looked around him. His cousin was looking at him, unbroken and unhurt by his mother's actions. Something choked in his throat as he looked at his parents. His mother had never been ripped from the man she loved, forced to chose her son over her old life. The bullet had never severed the nerves in his father's spine. They were together and happy.

Slowly he looked down at his hands. They were the hands of a child who was experiencing a childhood that had been ripped away from him. Here he had never had to hear the screams of the depraved. David's hands clenched and he looked the Phoenix in what he believed was its eyes.

"It is wonderful," he said, "And I can see why even Jean fell for it a bit. You'd always been with her and had saved her life after all; she probably thought you were good. One thing though…"

"Yes?" asked the Phoenix.

David's face contorted into a snarl.

"You killed my father," he said, "I **know **you're evil."

* * *

><p>Moira bit back a scream as the skin on her arm slowly dissolved into particles. This wasn't happening; her son wasn't lost to her too. She closed her eyes and started crying, helpless against the threat and the pain. Just as muscle began to flake away she felt the pain stop. Her eyes snapped open, feeling confused.<p>

The Phoenix tilted its head and its features contorted.

"Stop fighting," it hissed.

It closed its eyes and clenched its head. Moira and the others fell to the ground as it lost its concentration.

"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST GIVE UP?" it screamed.

The wind picked up and Moira felt herself pushed back. Objects began to levitate around them and dissolve, although her and the others were left unharmed.

"What's happening?" yelled Sean.

"He's fighting," Moira whispered, "I think he's fighting it…"

It screamed again and sank to its knees.

"You can do it David!" Moira screamed, "You're stronger than it!"

"SHUT UP!" yelled the Phoenix.

Dirt flew up from the ground and swirled in the air.

"You're stronger!" Moira yelled again.

* * *

><p>David could feel his mind tremble under the stress as he struggled for control. Fires started up, the Phoenix was spreading through every corner of his mind. He knew it was trying to destroy him. Playing nice hadn't worked so it had decided to get rid of him instead. He pushed back at it but he could feel himself weakening.<p>

It took two telepaths to fix a mind, that was what he had always been taught. One was supposed to hold the mind steady and the other was supposed to pull out the damage. With a sinking feeling he realized that he couldn't get the Phoenix out by himself. He doubted that even two telepaths could do what he had to; it was too strong.

He considered caging it, but he had no idea what to do. He'd been taught to build and repair cages for the terrorists in his head. None of those would be strong enough to hold a being of pure psionic energy, an angry creature that desired madness and destruction. His energy was being depleted quickly. Soon he knew that even his resistance would be taken from him and he'd be helpless as it used his body to destroy everything he cared about.

Feeling weak he remembered when he was a little boy being clawed at by ten different minds. He had screamed and thrashed but he could feel them taking over. It had been all darkness and agony with nothing to stop it.

_It's alright. You hold it steady, I'll build the cage. _

David blinked, feeling confused. The voice was warm and familiar; a pillar of strength and light in the darkness.

"But…" he whispered.

_It will only be temporary, but we can do it. I've done it before. _

Tears slipped from his eyes as his resolve strengthened.

"Alright," he said, clenching his fists.

_Good…I'll see you soon._

* * *

><p>Blood flew across the ground as the Phoenix coughed. Moira could see that there was a nosebleed too and that the objects flying around them were falling to the ground, one by one.<p>

"NOT AGAIN!" the Phoenix screamed, "NOT AGAIN!"

It dropped to the ground along with the last of the objects. Together she stood, the others at her back. They were all looking at each other with helpless expressions. Tears clouded her vision of her son's body. Even Moira didn't know what to do. Who was it that was lying there? Was it the Phoenix, or was it her son? She didn't know.

The head lifted and stared at her. Blue eyes stared at them, eyes that he had inherited from his father.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured.

Without a word Moira rushed to his side and took him in her arms, crying helplessly. Her son was back.


	51. Chapter 51

Emma gasped and sat up in bed, holding her head in both hands. Scott sat up with her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"What is it?" he asked.

She closed her eyes and breathed out.

"I'm feeling a psychic shock," she said, "Painful…sharp…like…"

Her voice hesitated and Scott wondered what she was thinking.

"Like when I found you," she said, "Only…a little more intense. God, it feels like someone crashed cymbals together in my head."

"Wait," he asked, "Like when you found me? Is it in the same place or-"

Emma waved a hand.

"No…it's in Scotland," Emma said.

"Scotland?" Scott asked, making a face.

Her blue eyes flickered over him as though taking a picture in her mind. He shifted uncomfortably, wondering why she was looking at him so intensely.

"Muir Island," she said, "Of course, you know that makes a lot of sense…now that the option is on the table…"

"Now that what option is on the table?" he asked.

Although he loved Emma she could be frustrating when she talked to herself, especially if he wanted an answer. Sometimes he wondered if Emma did it because she was holding counsel with herself, that she needed things said because so much was in her head. In the past he had simply waited. However, this had to do with him.

"Nothing," Emma said.

"Emma," he said, "Don't lie to me."

"I'm a liar," said Emma, turning away, "It's in my nature."

"Not to me," he said firmly.

He caught her wrist.

"You've never lied to me."

Emma looked back. Her blue eyes were fixed in that same camera-like way. Her shoulders were tense and he was reminded of the way she was when he first met her. An awkward feeling started in his chest and he let the hand move from her wrist to her chin. She stared back at him, unflinching, before allowing her head to fall back onto her pillow.

"Scott, we'll go there," she said, her voice mechanical, "We can find out then."

"And if no one's there?" he asked.

"Oh, trust me, someone will be there," Emma said, her voice still flat, "You'll get your answers."

"And so will you," he said.

A blank look came over her face like she had no idea what he was talking about. Comprehension dawned as Scott realized that she'd forgotten she was keeping him for answers. Something twinged deep inside his chest as Emma shrugged impassively, her eyes still on the ceiling.

"We'll leave tomorrow morning," she said, "I hate saying goodbye early in the morning."

He shook his head.

"I'm not going to leave you Emma," Scott said.

Her expression softened. She reached up and put a finger on his lips before drawing herself up to meet him. Scott moaned into the kiss as her hands went down his back. Instinctively he pulled her closer, losing himself. It would only occur to him, hours later, that she had never agreed with him. 

* * *

><p>"I want you all to listen closely," David said, "Because I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to repeat this."<p>

He lay on a hospital bed, his hair soaked with sweat. An IV had been tacked into him, for what purpose he didn't know. His headache was gone and his eyes were back to normal but he still felt weak. David's mother had insisted that he stay in the hospital wing. If only what he had could be cured with plenty of rest.

The X-Force stood around him, as well as his aunt and Erik. Amanda was there too. She'd been trying to see what had happened, Kurt had told her to send out an emergency call out after all. When she'd seen that Kurt was hurt and David had to be carried to a hospital bed she had stayed, helping with the IV's and bandages.

Erik and Mystique were another matter. He felt uncomfortable with them there. It had only been two days previous when he had cursed his aunt for hurting his cousin. David had never recovered from the undercurrent of hate he felt for Erik though, despite the fact that he hadn't caused his father's death. Not that that mattered now.

They needed to be there though. He'd had Erik fetched and Mystique had already been there to repair the damage he'd done to her. David had ached as he'd seen that Kurt and Moira had to be bandaged too. Any attempts at apology had been turned aside. They knew he hadn't been in control, but he knew that he should have been.

"Most of you are familiar with my powers," he said, "Telepathy, telekinesis. That sort of thing. But…most of you also know what happened when I was a child."

He took a deep breath. He hated going into details about his experience, even when he had to. The fact that he was doing this in front of old enemies didn't help.

"When I killed those terrorists in self-defense my father says that I acted as a vacuum, sucking their…souls I suppose…into myself," he said, "Which is where they've been ever since. They're easily cageable though; they haven't actively bothered me in a long time."

"Then what happened tonight?" asked Lorna.

He sighed and pushed his head back into his pillow.

"The fight at Alcatraz," he said, "I was remote viewing Jean to see what was happening. I hurt too much to leave…too much psionic energy…"

David bit his lip.

"We've never tested exactly why I took those terrorists into my head," he said, "Probably because my father didn't want any chance of repetition. Yes, that must have been it. But…because we all thought it was a freak accident…we never really thought it would happen again."

He looked over at his mother. Her bandaged arm was tucked close to her chest and her expression was sad. David wished that there was some way to explain what happened without her being there, without having to hurt her any more than she'd already been hurt. She deserved to know though; she would be the one most affected. He just wished he didn't have to announce it in such a public way.

"When I'm near someone psychically and they die," David said slowly, "I take them into myself. I remember feeling this incredibly pain…I was falling…Kurt had to hold me up…"

David didn't miss the odd look that Erik gave Kurt. He probably knew that he was the son of his former lover. Again, it didn't matter.

"You think you took Jean into you?" asked Alex, his face shocked.

"No…no…I wouldn't be so worried if that was what I thought," David said, "I wouldn't have minded taking Jean into my head."

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"So what do you think happened?"

"I **know **what happened," said David, "It told me."

There was a pause.

"You mean ze Phoenix?" Kurt asked.

He nodded.

"Told me when I still thought I could do something," he said, "Which was why…why I…"

"Vhy you tried to kill yourself," Kurt said quietly.

David nodded.

"I was so scared; I thought…never mind," said David, "I can assure you I won't do it again. There's no…immediate need…"

"Immediate?" Moira asked sharply.

He sighed.

"That's not what I meant," he said, "Well, it was, but…please listen for a few minutes. There's so much I have to tell you all."

His mother leaned against the wall, her gaze fixed sharply on him.

"Jean was at war with herself," David said, "She was host to a great power…a mad power that consumed and burned. She didn't want it. She was fighting it and it was her…but at the same time it wasn't really her."

"And?" Alex said.

"**And **she let go when she died," said David, "To make things simpler let's just say she had a split personality disorder. It's not true, but it's the easiest way to explain. The personality that dies with the body was Jean. But…the Phoenix...when the body was dying it came to me. I think I was fighting it subconsciously on some level, which is why it took so long to manifest. I ignored so many signs…partially because it was influencing my mind and, well, partially because I'm stubborn."

There were scattered chuckles around the room. David gave a weak smile.

"But…I've got it under control. For a few days at least."

"And when those days run out?" Mystique said.

He fixed a calculating gaze on the woman who had been his father's sister. He could see her now; soft features and blonde hair.

"I won't be able to stop it," he said.

A deep silence took over the room. Sean shook his head.

"That's not good enough," he said.

"It's all I can do," David said.

"And what are we supposed to do when those days run out?" demanded Sean, "Put you under like some sick pet? Do what Logan did for Jean? Sorry David, but no."

He threw out a hand. David was slightly surprised by the reaction; Sean had always been the level-headed one. To see him lose it like he was was shocking to the extreme.

"Kurt wouldn't let you kill yourself," he said, "I'm sure even if you had had time to explain he wouldn't have. None of us would have. And I'm not going to sit back here and wait for the time I have to help kill a kid I was there at the delivery for!"

Although Sean was the only one speaking David could see a similar sentiment reflected in the eyes of the others. It was touching to see his family that way; although he didn't look at Erik or Mystique. Still, he hoped that it wouldn't play out like Sean had described. There were other ways, ways he had been thinking hard about.

"You won't have to," David said, "I thought it was the only option, and it was, when I was trying to prevent freeing it. I thought I couldn't take it back in. But now…"

He swallowed.

"It'd still be dangerous," he said, "But I'm not Jean. The Phoenix was with her from birth; connected. For me it was grafted to me, forcing its way in unlike the terrorists where it happened naturally. It's the fact that I was young enough for them to weave themselves in. But, as I said, the Phoenix is different. I think that, if we go in there and isolate it we could psionically blast it out, if we had enough power."

"From the expression on your face I'm assuming you know where we can get that from," Doug said.

"I do actually," David smiled, "We use Cerebro Mark II. I'd need some help to isolate the Phoenix in my mind though-"

"What I don't understand," Erik said, his voice low, "is why we have to isolate it in the first place."

Alex gave him an angry look but David tilted his head. He'd expected him to say something sooner or later.

"I know a few things about telepaths," said Erik, "As long as you hold your own mind steady then we could probably destroy anything alien to you."

"We," muttered Alex.

Lorna glared at her husband but said nothing. David took the opportunity to jump in.

"Yes…we could do that," he said, "But…there are complications if we do it that way."

"Such as?" asked Erik.

David's tongue felt like lead. He wished he didn't have to say this out loud to so many people. It would be better if it could be whispered to just a few. What he was about to say was going to cause much pain, and even more hope. If that hope was dashed then he knew his mother might not be able to take it. Still, it had to be said.

"Jean…wasn't the only one I was near who died recently," he said softly, "I…can't let them be harmed because there was…another…and…I heard them for the first time today, helping me…somewhere just out of reach…"

"What do you mean?" asked Hank.

"I was there with them and…when it happened there was this sensation of pulling," David said, "And I…I wanted to…"

All around him everyone looked at him with confusion. All of them except Moira. Her eyes shone with tears. She understood even if no one else did yet, the sadness on her face told him that. He knew he was the same; his eyes and throat burned fiercely. It was so hard to acknowledge it, so hard to believe it, but he knew it was true.

"David," said Rahne, "Who else do you have in your head?"

Swallowing one last time he leaned back and closed his eyes.

"My father," he whispered.


	52. Chapter 52

"Repeat that," Erik said.

David didn't open his eyes, didn't even move. His words came out a whisper.

"When he died I felt like I should have this feeling of loss...in my head," he said, "But I never did. I told Kurt that it felt like something was still there but I myself had watched him die. I didn't understand."

He shook his head.

"Lately I've been remembering things, things I couldn't possibly remember if he wasn't…if somewhere…"

He trailed off miserably. It was a strange feeling for Erik, looking down at David. He did bear a remarkable resemblance to his father, just with the auburn hair of his mother. Now though he looked thin and sick, as though he was wasting away. Erik wondered if this had happened in a short amount of time. It was the only way he could think of it happening and no one suspecting something was wrong. Surely someone would have noticed or David would have caught himself. Yet, it seemed a trait of the Xavier men to give little thought to their personal survival.

A few feet away from him Erik could see that tears were spilling down Moira's face. It made him wonder if there was any truth in David's words. His claim had seemed so ludicrous that he was tempted to laugh it away after somehow hurting him. However, he doubted that David would make up such a declaration. He must have known how his mother would have reacted.

Kurt also appeared, while shocked, to believe him. It had taken him a few minutes to realize that that was Mystique's son. He'd been thinking about the possibility, only having it confirmed when Moira introduced him as Charles' nephew. He could hardly see the resemblance between Mystique and Kurt; if asked he would have just thought it was just Azazel's son. Erik would have to repeat that to her later; he was sure that it would hurt.

"And then…when I was losing control," David continued, "I was so lost and I knew I couldn't do it alone. And then I heard this voice and he helped me lock it away and…he saved me. Again. It's what he does."

His eyes opened and he looked at them.

"Don't you understand?" he pleaded, "That's why we need to stabilize my head first. If we don't we could destroy his mind and we'll lose him."

Glances were exchanged among the X-Force. Something between irritation and desperation shone on David's face.

"You don't believe me," he said, his voice flat.

"It's not that we don't believe you," said Doug, sounding uncertain, "It's just…well…you and your father were in each other's heads a lot-"

"And you think that that, combined with the stress of having the Phoenix in my head," said David through clenched teeth, "that it means that I'm starting to imagine things."

There was a long pause. David gave a curt nod.

"Alright, alright," he said, "If these memories are imaginary, made-up, then how do you explain this?"

David's eyes narrowed in concentration and Erik felt something tickle the back of his head.

_"It's just a muscle Sean. Like any other," Charles continued, "You have been doing those exercises I outlined for you, haven't you?"_

_"Yes Professor," Sean said._

_"I can read your mind, so lying to me won't get you anywhere. Tell the truth."_

_"Um…I haven't."_

_Charles shook his head. From the back of the aptly christened 'Danger Room' Alex and Hank watched their comrade practice during their special 'extracurricular' sessions. Their turn would come soon, as well as a team session where they fought each other. It was the best way to learn each other's weaknesses. Hank was even coming up with a type of virtual-reality simulation where they could make up opponents._

_Alex was starting to train outside more though, as was Hank. Charles had been relieved to find that Hank was running trails, but Alex had something more ambitious in mind. His letter from home had informed him that his little brother Scott had exhibited the same 'energy abnormalities' as he had, only from his eyes._

_Despite his anger at having his ability called an abnormality Alex had asked Charles if his brother could attend next year. Then he would be old enough to go to school. Charles had accepted and Alex had written home. Hank had even designed a special pair of sunglasses that should block the energy signature to be sent with him._

_After that Alex had started to put a training program together for his brother based on what had been used on him. So far he had managed to get a ski shooting set together for when Scott's abilities progressed. Charles admired his enthusiasm but winced at the thought of two Summers brothers together under one roof._

_"And I know why you didn't do them too," Charles said, "Had a nice night with Maeve?"_

The memory clanged clumsily inside Erik's head. It did feel different; this wasn't something that David had created. He could tell what Charles was feeling in it. From across the room he saw Moira and Kurt looking at them with slight confusion. It took him a moment to realize that David wasn't sharing these thoughts with them; somehow he knew that they didn't need proof. They believed them.

Sean, Alex, and Hank were looking at David with wide eyes.

"Or how about this?" asked David sharply.

"_Your decision," said Charles, "I'd like to start this conversation by asking if you were ever acquainted with a woman named Susanna Dane."_

_Something in his brain sparked. He shoved it down but Charles had already seen the surprise on his face._

_"I'll take that as a yes," Charles said, "How so?"_

_"Why?"_

_"No need to be so suspicious," sighed Charles, "I'm just asking a question."_

_Still wary Erik said;_

_"She was a nurse in the ward that took care of refugees from the camps. We were around the same age. I didn't have any family so I ended up staying there for several years."_

_"And the two of you were romantically involved."_

_It wasn't a question. His hand formed into a fist._

_"My past isn't exactly the smoothest stroll down memory lane," he said, "And if you're just going to ask these questions, then I'd ask that you stop. Then we can start up a game of chess. At least there would a point to that."_

_"There's a point to this," said Charles._

_He cleared his throat._

_"A few weeks after you left Susanna found out that she was pregnant."_

"Enough!" snapped Erik, "You've proved your point."

David winced as though he was in physical pain. Across the room Erik cast a glance at Lorna who was biting her lip. Their eyes met. Charles might have shared a few training experiences with David, but he wouldn't have shown him that. Erik looked back at the son of his old friend as he leaned back further in his hospital bed.

"Believe me?" asked David.

"Yes," Lorna murmured.

He nodded and clutched his head. Moira stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"It feels like my skull is breaking into tiny pieces every time I use telepathy," he said, something like a moan escaping his lips, "I need you to believe me right now…sorry if I overdid it but…I just need you to know that I'm telling the truth. I wouldn't lie. Not about this."

"We know," Rahne said, "We know. But…is it possible to…I don't know, get him out? It doesn't sound good…carrying too many minds."

"I've been carrying too many minds since I was eight," said David, "But yes, I was thinking about that. We still have that patient who was born with no higher brain functions, correct mother?"

Moira nodded. She seemed beyond words.

"The body is going to go through some major changes," David said, "Don't be surprised if the skin or face changes. It's going to want to change to suit the new mind. If we can just slip him in there then…well…that'll be the end of it."

"You're saying this like it's simple," said Hank, "I don't see how it can be."

"It won't be," David said, "I'd need…well…going into someone's head under normal circumstances is a risk. But I've got two accessible ones at the moment, and an angry psionic being. It's going to be remarkably complicated. That's why I'd need all of you to help me."

Erik raised his eyebrows as David swallowed.

"A mind is made of memories, bits of the past," he said, "If you're trying to find someone that's how you have to do it; go through the memories. At the same time your own memories are jumbled up in there but you have to walk through them. In this case we'll be fighting which is why it's good that so many of us are trained in combat, and of course you'd all be at peak performance, both physically and in regard to your powers."

He gave a weak smile.

"And of course, if you die in my mind you wake up in the real world," he said, "Astral plane rules are strange but they do tap into our strength of will. And the path will be a little easier, the memories act as guide. But whether that person knows it or not while you're in their head, they're leading you to them. It's like a magnet…but at the same time you have to navigate. You all…"

His eyes rested on Erik and Mystique. Erik saw his lips purse for a minute before continuing.

"…have known my father for a very long time. You share memories. You can tell me what's happening, where he went next, how we need to follow. Otherwise I'd be running without a map."

David sighed.

"This helps if the people involved are mutants," he said, "Preferably if you're telepaths. What I wouldn't give for another telepath. But that's besides the point. Mutants are more in tune with the machine. It's what Cerebro was built for. Mark II has more than one headset, right?"

"It's got nine. I meant to do ten but it's only partially built," Doug said, "I'd have to be running it constantly to get it right. I'd appreciate Hank's help but if he can't then I'd like Rahne. She watched me build it."

Rahne nodded in agreement.

"I haven't…it would be really dangerous if a human tried it though," Doug said, "I'm sorry about that…Moira, you probably know more than anyone but…"

He trailed off. David turned to Moira.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I…a mutant would probably work better," she said softly, "If push comes to shove I can't fight really and…well, I'll be more use with Doug."

David looked troubled although Erik was inclined to agree with Moira. She wasn't going to be a real asset in this. Even if her memory of Charles was somewhat more complete than anyone else's she would die too quickly in his mind to be of much use. What they were about to do sounded dangerous enough; he didn't want to further complicate the problem.

A small machine on the wall began to beep. Alex frowned and went over to it, opening the panel and punching a few keys.

"Looks like someone's landed on the east helicopter pad," he said, "I'll go check it out."

He looked over at Kurt.

"Mind giving me a lift?"

Kurt nodded, grabbing Alex's hand. The two of them teleported away and Erik raised his eyebrows. He really was Azazel's son. 

* * *

><p>Alex coughed as his feet touched the tarmac. Kurt put out a hand to steady him and Alex took it gratefully. He'd only ever been teleported once before and that was when he was fighting for his life with one of Shaw's cronies. It had made him nauseous then too. An errant idea went through his mind that the two sensations were almost identical, but it was a revelation he hastily brushed away.<p>

He could see the helicopter's blades slowing. Alex straightened himself. The night had been very tumultuous for all of them and he hoped that whoever it was had just had to make an emergency landing. On top of everything else that had been happening he didn't want to deal with an unwelcome guest as well.

A white boot stepped elegantly out of the helicopter. Its owner wore white pants and a matching corset. Over it all was a similar long hooded coat. The hood covered her hair but he could make out the gleam of a snowy choker around her neck. White gloved hands pushed back the hood and blue eyes stared at him defiantly.

An old memory surfaced in his head. He clenched his fists and concentrated, letting his power flow through him. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Kurt, get back!" he yelled, "Warn the others. Tell them Emma Frost is here! They'll know!"

Kurt disappeared in a puff of smoke as Alex sent a blast from his chest at Emma. A young girl with pink hair and wings jumped in front of her at the last minute, grabbing her arm and teleporting her out of the way. Alex whirled around to their new position, glaring at the girl. She glared at him in turn, drawing a dagger from her side.

"There's no need," said Emma loudly, "Both of you. I didn't come here to fight."

"Oh? What did you come here for?" he demanded.

She folded her arms across her chest. If she was a normal person he would have thought that she was hugging herself. He knew better from the stories.

"I was just checking to see if you lost this," she said stiffly.

Her eyes flickered to the helicopter. Alex followed her gaze as a man stepped out. He felt his breath clog his throat, nearly choking him.

"Scott," he managed.


	53. Chapter 53

Scott looked warily at the man in front of him. There was something desperately familiar about him, the scar on his forehead, the set of his jaw. It was just out of the reach of his memory though. Before he could react he'd run up and hugged him. Scott recoiled and the man released him, giving him a strange look.

"Scott?" he repeated.

He shook his head.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Something like devastation crossed his face. Scott immediately regretted telling him that he didn't know who he was, but how could he pretend that he did? There was nothing in his head about the man in front of him, and he could see that the man had known him before his memory loss. That much was obvious. The man's fists clenched at his side. He tilted his head slightly and his eyes narrowed so that he was glaring at Emma.

"What the hell did you do to him?" he demanded.

Scott frowned at the tone; Emma hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't see any reason for her to be blamed for his condition. Emma narrowed her eyes in turn.

"Don't blame me for the amnesia," she said coldly, "I'm just the salvager. Blame the idiots who left him for dead at Alkali Lake."

Color drained out of the man's face and his fists unclenched. His head hung low and he didn't look at Scott.

"Oh God Scott…I should have gone down there and looked myself," he said, "I shouldn't have trusted that Logan asshole about it. I should have asked more questions but Ororo said, and I…never mind. I should've…I'm really sorry Scott, it's not enough, but I am."

He looked up and Scott saw the despair in his eyes. He felt the urge to forgive him, to say something to make him feel better. Scott felt like he knew the man in front of him and felt his eyes going over his features again and again. Certainly at one point he had known him but he didn't know in what capacity. A lump formed in his throat that he swallowed before saying;

"I don't…I don't know who you are."

"For God's sake!" Emma snapped, "He's your brother! It's obvious from that little light show back there."

Her sharp tone felt like a stab to his ribs. She had been acting oddly ever since they departed her home. Even her manner of dressing had changed. Over the past months she had done away with most of her white clothing, clothing that had always reminded him more of armor than actual clothes, armor against the world.

Slowly that had disappeared around her. He'd even seen her wear jeans once. Then, suddenly, the armor had gone back on. She'd only shared a few clipped words with him during the trip and it hurt to feel her pulling away from him. Scott hadn't done anything to push her away and it felt unfair.

Then the meaning of her words came through. They made sense, clicked in a way. A faint memory surfaced from somewhere far away.

_A hand ruffled his hair as his brother walked past, a bag slung over his shoulder. Scott stared after him, realizing that his brother was leaving again. The only difference was that he didn't know when he'd be back. Before there had always been a date, six months, a week before the hearing, or when summer happened. Now he didn't know when he'd see him again._

_He didn't want that; didn't want his brother to leave. Scott didn't know how to stop him though, didn't even know if he should. Why should he shackle his brother to a life he didn't want? After what he'd seen their father do he felt like hiding somewhere upstairs and crying. However, he was going to be strong; just like his brother. _

_His parents went to the porch but Scott started to put on his shoes. He threw on his jacket and ran to the door just as Alex started up the engine of his motorcycle._

_"You don't want a freak for a son?" Alex asked, "Okay, fine. You won't."_

_"Where do you think you're going?" demanded their father._

_"Home," he said, "Also known as upstate New York."_

_Alex kicked the stand of the bike and got ready to pull out. Scott wormed his way out of the door, feeling too trapped and lost to say anything. He wanted to beg Alex not to leave him behind, to take him with him, but somehow he couldn't get the words out. Alex looked over his shoulder at him and Scott tried to say something. Slowly his brother lowered the kickstand._

_"You wanna come with me boy scout?" he asked._

_Scott paused. How had he known? It wasn't that surprising when he thought about it; Alex knew everything. He nodded._

_"Scott!" His mother said._

_As he started forward she tried to hold him back. Angrily he struggled until he was able to slip through her arms. Still moving fast he clambered onto Alex's bike. No one was going to stand in his way. Too many people had taken his brother, the only reliable person in his life, away from him. He wasn't going to get left behind again. _

_Scott sat in front of Alex who ruffled his hair again and gave him the helmet._

_"Buckle that on and hold on tight," Alex said._

_"So you're just going run away?" snapped his father, "For all your lofty words you haven't changed at all."_

_Alex gave a cursory glance back._

_"Running away implies we don't know where we're going," said Alex, "But we know where we're going. And I never had the guts to leave before. So actually, I've changed a lot."_

_The words sounded like something a hero would say before riding off into the sunset. Scott gripped the front bars of the bike, excited to go on this adventure. No matter what happened, he had Alex looking after him. Alex kicked the stand again and pressed the acceleration._

_The motorcycle revved into life and started forward. Scott had never ridden with Alex on his motorcycle before; he'd said it was too dangerous. It felt like flying. _

_"Looks like we're starting school early," Alex said to Scott._

_The next few nights weren't anything like school though. It was cold and food was scarce. He knew that Alex was going without to give him more but it still wasn't enough. The cold snap that the northern states were going through weren't helping either. He shivered so much that Alex began to wrap his own coat around him over his own. He'd even had to wear some of Alex's clothes when his got muddy. _

_They kept moving a lot, stopping only for gas when it was absolutely necessary. Scott was unused to riding for so long on a motorcycle and he got the feeling Alex was too. Road rash had started to form on his skin, so much that it was hurting. His face was getting it particularly hard and he'd started to turn his face away from the road when they rode._

_One night he'd burst into tears from the pain and Alex had held him close. _

"_I'm so sorry Scott," he said, "I should have known better…I shouldn't have done something so stupid and brought you with me…I should have left you back at the house…"_

_Scott had jerked his head up. _

"_No!" Scott said, "I don't want you to leave me behind…not anymore, please!"_

_Alex stared at him and Scott wondered if he'd known what it had done to him each time the police had come to take him away. He hadn't known how empty the house was, how distant their parents had become, especially after he'd needed the special glasses. Alex didn't know what it was like to be left behind continually by your hero. _

"_I won't leave you behind," Alex swore, "We'll make this work. I swear. We'll get there and I'll never leave you behind again."_

_The next night, filthy and exhausted, Alex parked his motorcycle. Scott was nearly asleep in front of him. He watched dreamily as his brother slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. Alex gave him a tired look before scooping him up in his arms. If he was more awake he would have protested, but as it was he fell asleep in his arms. _

_When he woke up he saw that they were inside a building. Lorna, the girl his brother was always with, stood there in her nightgown and bathrobe. Scott looked around, dazed._

_"We're here?" he asked._

_"That's right boy scout," Alex said._

_Swallowing Alex asked Lorna;_

_"Kitchen still stocked?"_

_"Yeah, it is," she said, sounding strange, "Do you want me to get the Professor or-?"_

_"No," said Alex, "Not yet."_

_He carried Scott into the kitchen and set him down on a chair. Lorna started pulling a box of instant macaroni and cheese out of the pantry. As she put it into the pan Alex had grabbed cokes out of the fridge. He opened them and set one in front of Scott before sitting down. Scott began chugging his, desperate for the sweetness._

_"Boy scout, wanna go a little slower?" Alex asked, "You're gonna get sick otherwise."_

_Scott nodded and Lorna started stirring the concoction. She poured both of it into bowls._

_"Again, slow," Alex cautioned him as she put it on the table._

_The smell nearly sent him into a delirium. Hot food was right in front of him after so long in the cold without it. It seemed like a miracle. He began shoveling it into his mouth despite what his brother said, noting that he was doing the same. It seemed like they couldn't help themselves. Alex finished first._

_"Thanks," he said to Lorna, "We haven't exactly had the best eating over the past few days."_

_"I see," she said._

_Alex patted Scott on the back when he finished._

_"Your old room's vacant and I know the bed's made up," Alex said, "Why don't you go upstairs? You get to sleep in a real bed tonight."_

_Scott's face lit up as he slid down the chair._

_"Night Alex," he said, "Night Lorna."_

_He slid upstairs, wondering how his brother could be so strong. He was a rock, always telling him what he needed to hear. As he snuggled into the soft, clean sheets, he decided that was the kind of man he wanted to be; responsible and strong. He'd make sure that was how it was going to be._

Scott blinked at him, his eyes wide.

"Alex?" he asked.

Alex blinked at him.

"You remember?" he asked, "Please…tell me you remember."

"Not everything," Scott admitted, "But…enough. Enough to remember who you are…and don't be sorry-"

"I should have looked," Alex said fiercely, "I should have known better…"

"No, it's okay, you didn't-"

His brother cut him off by pulling him into a fierce hug. Scott put an arm around Alex's shoulders in turn and looked over at Emma. Something unreadable was on her face as she drew herself up.

"I'll be going then," she said, her voice stiff.

He blinked at her. He didn't see why she needed to leave, what was going on. Furthermore, how could she just leave after everything they had been together? Scott couldn't believe it had meant nothing to her so he couldn't fathom why she was acting this way. From what he'd heard of her he'd thought cruelty was a defense mechanism, but he didn't know what it was she was defending against.

"No, you won't."

Scott and Alex turned. A blue mutant with a tail stood supporting a thin, sickly-looking man wiping hair out of his eyes. The blue mutant teleported away quickly but the man remained. He seemed familiar too, in more ways than one. The young man looked at Scott and widened his eyes. He turned his gaze to Alex who nodded quietly. The man nodded in turn.

"Alright, tonight has been very strange," he said, "I'm willing to accept a little more strangeness."

He turned towards Emma.

"My name is David Xavier," he said, "I believe that you are familiar with my name."

The name Xavier clanged painfully in Scott's head. He shook his head to clear it.

"Once upon a time," Emma said, tilting her head.

"And I know you know my mother; Moira MacTaggert," said David said, his voice sharp.

Emma's face hardened.

"I believe I tortured her once, yes."

Scott felt his look of confusion as he looked at Emma. If possible her expression hardened even more.

"Then we're acquainted," David said, "You owe my family White Queen."

She smiled her hard and glittery smile, a smile that let Scott know that she was far from him now.

"Oh really?" she asked.

The blue mutant teleported back with a woman with green hair and a man with red. Seconds later a blue furry mutant appeared as well as another woman with her hair plaited back. They were all familiar to him, the girl with the green hair who stared at him especially. He remembered her as Lorna from his regained memory and wondered if she was still with his brother.

All of them looked ready to fight though. Scott could see the calculation in Emma's eyes as she took them all in. Megan, who had become increasingly tense as they appeared, gripped the dagger tighter. Emma shook her head and motioned for Megan to put her weapon away. Scott started forward, concerned, but Alex put out a hand to restrain him.

"Yes, really," David said, "Now, I believe you and I need to talk."


	54. Chapter 54

To say the least David had mixed feelings about Emma's presence. On the one hand she was an enemy. He remembered her in the stories his family had told him when the X-Men were young. She had tortured his mother, causing the white spots on her arm. Emma was worse than the Brotherhood because she didn't follow orders and had been out for herself. At least the Brotherhood fought for a cause. In these stories she had also been dead. Obviously that wasn't so.

It didn't matter how she had survived though; only that she had done so and was there. David hadn't said that he'd do anything to have another telepath lightly. He had meant it. If he wanted to ensure the survival of those who were going into his mind a telepath was necessary to steady their conflicting minds.

That wasn't to say he didn't feel wary of Emma's appearance. She was a poisonous gift, he recognized that. She was a gift all the same though, and one that he intended to use. He was glad that he could count on Moira and Kurt's unconditional support. David hated doing this to his mother, putting her son's life in the hands of a woman whose sadism was only matched by her cruelty. This was a woman that his mother could have very well have had nightmares about.

Still, it was all for the cause of bringing his father back to them. He knew that Moira would be willing to take the risk for that, if he said it was alright. Kurt carried no baggage and was, thankfully, trusting him implicitly. The only ones he really had to worry about were the rest of X-Force, all of them carrying their own grudges and fears.

Scott was an unexpected twist. He wondered if he should have a word with Ororo and Logan when it was all over before Alex crashed on them like a tsunami. Logan was, as he was sure Alex would note, more to blame than Ororo though. He was a feral; she wasn't. If he'd been trying harder he might have been able to smell Scott or something similar.

He hoped it would give them more of a reason to trust Emma. Scott seemed unharmed and she had just been dropping him off with no real ulterior motive. David could see that it hadn't convinced most members of the X-Force though. His head was pounding and he just wanted to go to sleep, but it appeared from the faces around the room when he finished explaining his plan that that wouldn't be happening any time soon.

"She's dangerous," Sean said.

"She's in the room," snapped Emma, "Why would I want to help any of you anyway?"

"For one we're the ones in charge of letting you in and out," said Hank.

The girl with the pink hair narrowed her eyes. Her wings fluttered slightly in anger.

"Is that a threat?" she demanded.

"A statement of fact," Hank said dryly.

The girl's image flickered and the next moment she was standing next to Hank.

"I teleport," she said, "I can get us out of here."

"I'd have Nightcrawler follow you," David said.

Scott shook his head.

"There's no need for any of you to-" he started.

"Scott," Alex said, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, "You don't have all your memories back. You don't understand what's happening here, but there is really no reason for us to trust her."

"She brought me back, didn't she?" asked Scott.

"Not fast enough," muttered Alex.

"Look," Emma said, "Would it be helpful if I simply **volunteered** to participate?"

The room fell silent. David's heart soared. Emma shifted in her seat and rested her chin on her hands.

"I've been interested in the cause of these psionic blasts ever since I felt the first one in Canada," she said, "While it's been pretty much explained as some eldritch being I would be delighted to find out more. As my bodyguard Megan Gwyn pointed out, we can leave any time we like. You could follow us, I'm sure, but that would be pointlessly complicated."

She smiled and David arched his eyebrow.

"I don't think you're the kind to do anything for free," he said, wary despite his relief.

"I'm not," Emma said, "Now that you know I'm still alive I have a feeling there's going to be some sort of revenge motif going. I'm simply exchanging helping you for X-Men immunity."

"That's not fair," Sean cut in, "We can't just let you go free."

"You're letting them go free," said Emma, gesturing to Mystique and Erik.

Erik, who had done nothing but glare at Emma from the second she'd come into the room, detached himself from the wall.

"The Xaviers have always been a trusting family," he said, "But I would advise you against this David. You would do better to let her go and hunt her down later. You can't trust her."

"That's rich coming from a man who abandoned his best friend to bleed it out on the beach," Emma said, yawning.

Erik started forward. Emma's metal chair moved abruptly. From across the room Megan teleported next to Emma. Lorna quickly put out a hand to steady the chair, giving her father a pleading look. Next to Alex Scott gained a strange look. David thought he saw him touch the side of his goggles briefly. The chair stopped its movement and David privately noted that Erik had some control of his power. It was something to remember.

"Everyone here is under our protection," David said loudly, "When they leave the Island things change, but for now no one can attack anyone else. Understood?"

There was another silence. Erik glared at David but returned to his side. Megan relaxed but stood next to Emma. David could see that she wasn't going to leave again, and that was just as well. Scott's reaction had been strange. It couldn't have been from his distrust of Erik; he didn't remember who he was. David knew he'd have to look into that later. Emma Frost was certainly causing plenty of complications.

Looking as though nothing had happened the woman in question began smoothing her skirt.

"That's my deal," she said, "Take it or leave it."

"You don't know if you can trust her," Doug said.

"She just came here to drop Scott off," said David.

"So she says," snorted Doug.

"How about you just look into her mind?" suggested Rahne.

"No!"

David was surprised that he'd said no at the same time as Emma. They both shared a look that lasted for a split second. At least they understood that.

"Why not?" Rahne asked.

He shook his head. She didn't understand. Telepaths were in everyone's head all the time. There were so many voices and it was easy to lose yourself in someone else's mind. The only way to stay anchored was to make your own mind a fortress of rock. It was the only way to seperate yourself from everyone else. Willingly letting someone else poke around in it was unthinkable.

Not to mention there was the chance of being overwhelmed. Once you had seen into someone else's mind it was hard not to sympathize with them. With another telepath you could literally drown in their thoughts and, if the backlash was great enough, end up exchanging minds. It was heightened by the fact that he would be going deep with this mind reading. The risks and implications were too great to consider.

"How about you try me?" asked Megan quietly.

David sat up straighter.

"Pardon?" he asked.

"Megan," Emma said, her voice low.

Ignoring Emma Megan took a step forward.

"I've been with Emma since I was seven," she said, "And that's over twenty years. I know everything that's happened in those twenty years. She needs to share everything with me; I'm her bodyguard."

"Megan, you don't-" Emma started.

"You don't look over twenty," said David suspiciously.

Megan laughed.

"I'm older than I look," she said.

"That makes two of you," David said.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. If it appeased everyone around him then he couldn't see any reason not to do it.

"Alright," he said, "Closer please."

Megan gave a reassuring smile to Emma before she stepped up confidently to David. He placed two fingers on her temple and closed his eyes.

"I'm afraid this may hurt a little," he said

"I'm prepared for that," Megan replied.

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing. He saw the first time she'd seen Emma; wearing such pure white that it gleamed. Everything about her was so poised, so elegant. From what Megan's father had told her she knew that she was just as deadly as she was beautiful. Like many other people from her father's world she was giving her a hard look, although she was grateful that she wasn't laughing.

David was shocked to see that Megan's father was Jason Wyngarde. He remembered the stories of him and his daughter. They were the same types of stories he'd heard when he'd been told about Emma Frost. Martinique had tried to kill Alex and Lorna. Her father had attempted to murder him when he was an infant, only to be beaten back by his mother.

The backlash from that was great, making his head rattle. He calmed himself, telling himself that the daughter wasn't responsible for the sins of the father. As a member of the X-Force he knew that quite well. Swallowing he pressed a little further.

He saw Megan grow up with a deep distrust of her family, put there by their constant abuse. Some part of him started to see how Emma could easily turn her head, make her into an obedient slave by showing shreds of affection. It had him feeling sorry for Megan and regretful of the life that had been stolen from her.

His head was beginning to hurt and, coupled with his regret for Megan, it didn't bode well. However, as he looked further he learned that that wasn't what had happened at all. Emma had sympathy for Megan, a sympathy Megan would come to treasure. For it was that sympathy that would develop into the love of a mother for a beloved child. It was the only familial love Megan would ever receive.

Megan had cried nearly every day before Emma found her. Surprisingly after Emma made her her ward there were few times to cry. Emma had taken care of her in ways she had only dreamed of before, groomed her into someone to be feared and respected. Then Regan had come, attacking her and trying to steal that life. Emma had defended her; albeit bloodily. Anyone else might have called it murder but David found it was impossible to see it as anything other than a lioness protecting her cub.

Understandably Megan had been desperate to learn to defend herself. Megan had been taught more than just defense though. She'd been taught languages and math, but there had been an emphasis on combat. She'd been a highly educated and lethal combination. Megan had worn Emma's colors when she'd debuted as her bodyguard, an implacable being of ivory and silver. Despite her appearance none had dared laugh at her; they knew what she'd done to their assassins.

David was beginning to wonder if perhaps the Emma Frost who had tortured his mother and the Emma Frost he saw now were different people. Obviously it was the same woman, but a lot could happen in twenty years. He knew that Megan was obviously biased and that Emma was still killing and intimidating people. There was more going on than that though. He started to see her detach herself from it though as she dedicated more of her life to Megan and living in general.

It was a puzzle but he saw the way Emma looked at her; like Megan was a miracle that she'd somehow been entrusted with. David could see that Emma wasn't the type of person that the X-Force or X-Men would associate. It didn't mean that she couldn't be trusted though.

His worry had begun to decrease by the time he saw when Megan and Emma had found Scott. From then on it rose so sharp that he nearly gasped. He watched with growing agitation as Scott and Emma began to draw closer. David could feel Megan's hope for the two of them as a couple, for Scott as a stepfather.

Something churned inside his stomach. This was a good deal more complicated than he'd originally thought. No wonder Scott was defensive of Emma, it all made perfect sense. He doubted that the rest of the X-Force, Alex in particular, would approve. The more he thought about it the more he realized how much this was going to change things.

As though feeling his unease he felt Megan guide him to a memory. It made sense; she had grown up around a telepath. He saw Scott murmuring something and Emma laughing. He turned her head slightly and kissed her gently before pulling away. Megan had walked into the room fully then and they had changed the conversation.

David could only swallow another wave of apprehension. This was indeed more complicated. Scott was in love with Emma. It wasn't just the kiss he could tell that from, but all of thier body language. Telepaths didn't need to touch or even speak to make themselves understood. Even the slightest touch was a vote of confidence; he'd learned that from his parents.

It was a symbol of trust between them, especially on Emma's part. From what he'd seen through Megan's eyes Emma was capable of love. He believed that she had fallen for Scott, perhaps harder than he had. She truly was trying to bring him back to his family, not wanting him to go but loving him too much to hold him back.

The only thing was that Scott didn't remember Jean. He didn't remember so much that would make what they had complicated. David doubted that the relationship would be condoned by anyone in their circles, by anyone with good sense. Sadness overtook him for what was coming. Not only would Megan a girl who, for all of her violent life was still an innocent, be denied family but Emma would be denied love that he knew she felt.

_I thought it might end that way…but I hoped it would work. She loves him very much and…she doesn't deserve to be abandoned. _

He opened his eyes and stared at Megan. She looked at him sadly and he realized that she had been listening to him. Of course; she had grown up with a telepath.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She nodded and pulled away. Rahne looked over her shoulder.

"Well?" asked Rahne.

David swallowed.

"They can be trusted," he said, "And I find her request reasonable. Now come on; we're going to need to start soon."


	55. Chapter 55

Alex put a hand on Scott's shoulder.

"Wanna come home with us tonight?" he asked, his voice halting, "I know that a lot of this is new for you…and…yeah, but I can keep the kids from asking questions for a while."

"Kids?" asked Scott, blinking.

He saw his brother close his eyes, forcing something painful back.

"Yeah, Will, Tom, and Luna," he said, "You nephews and niece. You met Luna last summer for the first time."

An image of three children flashed behind his eyelids. Silver eyes stared up at him.

"Luna has silver eyes?" he ventured.

Alex smiled.

"Yeah," he said.

"And you're married to Lorna," continued Scott slowly, a few stray memories blossoming.

"It's coming back to you. You always were a fast learner," Alex said, putting an arm around his shoulder, "So, what do you say?"

"Sounds good," said Scott, "There's still a lot to remember. Why was I even at Alkali Lake in the first place?"

Alex hesitated.

"You were…distant before you disappeared," he said, searching for words, "And you didn't tell anyone before you left. But Alkali Lake…it has significance. You were captured and held there by some asshole named Stryker."

"Emma mentioned that," he said, "She said I had something at the back of my neck, something he used."

He saw his brother's jaw tighten.

"Okay, what is it with everyone and Emma?" Scott asked.

Alex shook his head.

"Long story Scott," he said, "Long story. But if you want to know about Alkali Lake, really know…I…do know if...but...do you remember Jean?"

Scott physically stumbled from the onslaught of pain. So much of it was still small but he could see her, red hair and light, saving and killing him. Alex supported him and helped him so he was sitting on the floor, gasping for breath. A pain was starting deep inside of his chest, one that he knew was all too familiar.

"Are you okay?" asked Alex.

He took another breath. An image of Emma flashed before his eyes and he bowed his head.

"No," he said. 

* * *

><p>Emma allowed herself to be led to her chambers for the night by Kurt. She tried to distract herself by looking at him and comparing him mentally to his father. His skin was a roadmap of tattoos, rough and textured. Up close she saw a greater resemblance to his mother but she had to admit that his father's genes had had their way with him. Azazel dominated the world around him even in DNA.<p>

When he was gone though, when it was just her and Megan, she was lost to her thoughts. Emma removed her coat and sat in front of her vanity, staring at the mirror. She'd watched Alex take Scott aside. She knew he was going to tell him everything that was happening and she was sure he'd tell him about the terrible Emma Frost.

Although she seemed outwardly impassive something deep inside her was chilled and lost. It hadn't taken much for Scott to remember his brother. She wondered how many more nudges it would take for him to remember everything else about his spotless life, how long it would take to remember Jean.

The name made a spark flare up in her heart, one that she quickly stifled. She had surreptitiously rummaged around in the minds of the X-Force. She'd heard the name Jean in connection to Scott and, after a few more proddings, realized that she was the one who had hurt him in the first place. It wouldn't matter to him though. He wasn't that kind of man.

She closed her eyes. From across the room she could feel Megan's worry. She'd peeked at the conversation she'd had with David, the memories she'd shown. Emma personally believed that Megan had revealed too much but she didn't have the heart to be angry. Megan was entitled to her own hopes; she couldn't help her disappointment when they were crushed. She even thanked David quietly for his sympathy; Emma didn't need it but Megan deserved any regard she was given.

Idly Emma looked in the mirror. Mentally she called forth a picture of Jean that she'd taken from Lorna's mind. She was some sort of doctor, a worker at the school. Emma had no doubt that she volunteered in her spare time and nursed kittens and puppies back to health. A snarl started and died in her throat; there was no point. It was the kind of woman Scott had had before his world had crumbled, a woman who was nothing like her. It made sense.

She tapped her skin and allowed the scars to show through. They were very faint, caused by the cracking as Erik had tried to crush her into nothing. Emma had shown them to Scott the first night they were together, too lost in the moment to concentrate on making herself look perfect anymore. He hadn't minded and to her that had confirmed that she'd done the right thing by trusting him.

The coldness was growing in her, eating her up. She wanted to say something to Megan but she knew that she wouldn't be able to. One of her fingers tapped her face just under her eye. Emma applied pressure, hoping to feel something. For a second she didn't and, deep down, she knew that it was just as well. Being numb was the only way she'd get through this in one piece.

_You shouldn't have done this, _a voice whispered.

Emma nearly laughed.

_Become involved with him or let him go back?_ she thought bitterly.

_One or the other, not both. _

_You always were right_, she thought, looking at her own reflection, _It's just me who's too stupid to listen_.

There was a knock on the door. She gestured to Megan to open it, knowing it could only be one person.

_Time to pay the piper. _

Scott stood in the doorway. Emma knew he couldn't see her from where she was and she allowed herself a look at him. He carried himself a little straighter, with more certainty. There was a tenseness that hadn't been there before as well. From the look on Megan's face she could tell that she knew too.

"I'd like to talk to Emma," he said.

Megan hesitated.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked.

"What?" asked Scott.

"It's just…I don't…" Megan said miserably.

Emma stood up, fluffing her hair out behind her. She stood behind Megan and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned to her, surprised.

"Megan, it's not unreasonable," she said, "Let him in."

Taking a deep breath she added;

"And I think this is going to be a private conversation. Could you stand outside and make sure we're not interrupted?"

Megan nodded, still looking miserable. Scott sidestepped her and shut the door quietly. Folding her arms across her chest Emma turned away before sighing.

"Emma…look…" he started.

She held up a hand.

"Scott, spare me the sugary version of what you have to say," Emma said, "Because I know. So just get it over with."

He took in a deep breath behind her.

"I…Alex told me some things-"

"About how you saved orphans from house fires before you went missing I'm sure," she said, "You'll remember that I did warn you."

"You're not making this any easier," he said, sounding frustrated.

She laughed and turned around, facing him.

"Why on earth would I want to make this any easier for you?" asked Emma, "I'm not sure how this feels to you, but I for one dislike being dropped like a rock the moment you realize our lives aren't compatible."

"That's not what this is," he protested.

"It is," corrected Emma.

"You act like this is easy for me-" Scott began.

"It's easier for you because you come off better for this," Emma snapped.

She put on a high falsetto voice.

"Oh poor little Scott, he got seduced by some white serpent while he lost his memories," she said, "But it's okay, he's sorry for it and it wasn't really his fault. Welcome back to the family!"

Emma laughed again. Her numbness was fading into something between depression and fury.

"I'm not the one who seduced you, if you recall," she said, "God what a fool I was for trusting you."

"Emma," he pleaded, reaching for her.

She drew away.

"Don't touch me," said Emma, "Don't."

He pulled his hand away. There was hurt in his expression, but he was still the one doing this.

"It's not like that," he said, "Listen, there are things you don't know, wounds that are too raw for-"

"It's Jean," she said.

A startled look crossed his face.

"You think I didn't find things out in that room, listening to their thoughts about what had happened?" asked Emma, "A few of them had pretty good speculations, I must admit. But you're still recovering from her, is that what you want to say?"

She waved her hand, not giving him a chance to answer. His expression was all she needed.

"I've lost to a dead woman," Emma said.

"I told you it's not like that!" Scott said.

"No, it is. You just don't want it to be because you'd come off as the bad guy if it is," said Emma, "But to you there's no other way. When I leave this Island you'll maybe think of me with regret. At the same time you'll never seek me out again."

Emma cocked her head.

"What we had, you're leaving nothing behind," she said, "I've lost your love, haven't I?"

"I still love you!" he said, "I just-"

"Can't," Emma finished, "Something like that. But that's what I received from this relationship and you're taking it away. And you, you got parts of me that I'll never get back, things I never let anyone near-"

She stopped, knowing that she had said too much. Looking at him she wished for the millionth time she could see his eyes. They were hidden behind those red shades and she wanted to take them off, see the color of his eyes. Emma wanted to see him give her one last loving look before everything ended. It was too late though.

"You just took Scott, and now you're going to leave," she said, "How typical."

He shook his head and she could see that she was hurting him, pushing him away. Emma bit her lip. That wasn't what she wanted. It had to end, she could see that, but it could end differently. She could make it end in a way that wouldn't leave him with the image of the White Queen. She could instead give him a picture of Emma Frost. It was all that was left for her to do.

"You act like I'm trying to purposely hurt you," he said.

"I know you're not doing it on purpose," Emma said, "Because you're a good man."

She let her arms fall to her sides.

"Let's face it; I'll never be good enough for you," she said, "And you'll never be bad enough for me. And that's just the way it is."

"You're good Emma," Scott said quietly.

She smiled sadly and stroked the side of his face.

"Not enough," said Emma.

Withdrawing her hand she sighed.

"I'd like you to leave now," she said.

"Emma-"

"Please Scott," Emma interrupted, "Let's just leave it."

He hesitated but eventually she heard his footfalls just like she knew she would. It had been inevitable from the beginning and she'd been foolish to see it and take the plunge anyway. Megan came back into the room, closing the door behind her. She walked up behind her.

"Are you okay?" asked Megan.

Something in Megan's words undid her.

"No," Emma sobbed.

Before she knew it she was crying in Megan's arms. She cried for her betrayal, her pain, for the life that had led her to where she was now. Most of all she cried for the little girl with brown hair deep inside her who'd been denied love yet again, who had just slipped a little further away.


	56. Chapter 56

It was heartbreaking to see the change that had come over Rogue. Logan had been witness to her hysterical tears and panic when she was told that, not only was The Cure defective, but it could very well kill her. It had made him want to cut Worthington into ribbons as she was taken to a hospital facility.

She returned a month later looking fragile. The gloves and scarves that she'd abandoned for lighter clothing returned, her head bowed in something akin to shame. She returned to the team training sessions but said little, drifting away from the rest of the group. Ororo, in a misplaced attempt at kindness, had asked her if she wanted to join the Sefton Sui,t as it was becoming known. Rogue had simply shaken her head and retreated a little further.

Rogue was an island of misery in a sea of happiness. The teeter-totter balance that had existed before The Cure was returning and the Sefton Suit seemed to be gaining momentum. Logan himself would have left the Institute if not for the fact that he was one of the few people who could get a response from Rogue. He didn't want her to do anything stupid in her current state.

He walked into the observation deck of the Danger room. The room was a mess; some sort of new technology was being installed there, or so he'd heard. Ororo was there, adjusting the dials on what looked like a stereo as she watched the team's progress. He took a deep breath of his cigar and Ororo looked at him with disproval.

"Warlock technology is highly sensitive," she said, "Could you please not smoke?"

Logan took the cigar away from his lips.

"S'pose I could."

He brought it back for another breath. Ororo watched him patiently. When she realized that he wasn't going to put it out she gave a frustrated sigh and turned to the keyboard.

"You're setting a bad example," she said.

"I'm not their teacher."

She rolled her eyes and keyed in a few commands.

"You certainly hang out here enough," Ororo said.

"Want me to leave?"

Ororo ignored him, keeping her concentration on her typing. Down below he watched Piotr punch through a simulated wall, knocking out an opponent but nearly taking down Kitty. She managed to phase through the debris in time, although she looked annoyed. Logan collapsed into a nearby chair and leaned back.

"Kid needs some control," he said.

"He'll learn it," Ororo replied, "And command one to download the files…"

She pressed a key and the screens around them came to life. Words scrolled rapidly down the screen as the files downloaded to the hard drive. Logan raised his eyebrows.

"Got somethin' fancy goin'?" he asked.

"It was developed at Muir Island by a former X-Man called Cypher," she said, "He was in my team; talked to machines. His instructions are just a little complicated though."

Logan shrugged.

"Have one of the tech kids do it," he said.

"This is too expensive," Ororo explained, "Besides, he's pretty protective of his creations. He wouldn't let anyone he doesn't know within ten feet of the installation equipment."

"Good thing he doesn't know I'm here."

"Mmmhm," said Ororo, "He'd go spastic."

Logan shrugged again. There were too many weird people there for him to worry too much. He was about to go back to watching the training session when a screen near him lit up. Frowning he leaned forward as the image flickered into life. He watched the time code in the corner tick by and realized it was a security camera.

"Hey, Storm," he said, "The hell's this supposed to be?"

She looked over and arched an eyebrow.

"I think it's a security tape from a few hours ago at Muir Island. Looks like it's of the courtyard," she said, "Probably just a malfunction with the Warlock system...or I pressed something wrong."

Her head cocked as they watched Kurt teleport into a crowd of people. Logan vaguely recognized the people around them from the battle at Alcatraz. There were two women he didn't recognize; one with dark hair and the other with graying. When they moved he could see that Kurt was holding onto the man who'd introduced himself as Legion.

"I haf him," Kurt said, his voice scratchy from the tape, "David I don't know vhy you-"

"Amazing," whispered David, "He actually tried to kill himself. That's a new one; the others were far too scared."

The hairs on the back of Logan's neck went up as David lifted his head.

"Didn't do him any good though," David said.

The two of them watched as David threw around the members of the X-Force, cracking his neck like he was uncomfortable in his skin. Much of the dialogue was distorted by the tape, but he could see skin and muscle fleck away as David contorted his fingers. Logan felt something grim in the pit of his stomach.

Ororo reached a trembling finger out and punched a key. With a few clicks she zoomed in on the image of David. His eyes were pitch black and the veins around them were gray. It was too familiar, far too familiar. Logan closed his eyes briefly before clenching his fists. He looked up at Ororo whose mouth formed a thin line.

"Get the team together," she said, "I think it's time we visited Muir Island."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked David.<p>

Scott nodded.

"I know my memory isn't complete, but Doug says you could use another person on this," he said, "And you have an extra headset, so I figure I could help."

"You do understand the risks, correct?" asked David, "This thing, it could attack. Memories can turn on you and, though I doubt you can die for real in my mind, you can still feel the sensation of pain."

"I'm aware," said Scott, "Regardless, I'd like to do this."

David nodded from his hospital bed. He'd been there under constant supervision since the night before, but he had asked his mother to leave while he spoke with Scott. Kurt would be there in an hour so he knew he should finish things up before then. His cousin had the most unfortunate timing on earth.

"Yes, we could use you," David said, "But…there is something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"What?" asked Scott.

He swept the area with his mind briefly. What he was about to say to Scott couldn't leave the room. He'd never hear the end of it from Alex if it did.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," he said, "But…it's about Emma Frost."

Scott made a move as if to leave and David shook his head.

"Please, just give me a few minutes," David said, "I know you haven't talked to anyone about this; maybe you feel like you can't. But I assure you that I'm not here to judge you. I swear that nothing you say will leave this room."

The hard look Scott gave him made him want to reconsider. Why was he doing this? He knew the answer to it, although he didn't like it. He'd seen far too much in Megan's mind. It was hard not to sympathize with someone once you had literally walked in their shoes, and she cared very much about Emma.

He sighed as Scott took a seat.

"Look, when I was in Megan's head I found out what happened while you were staying with her," he said.

Scott looked away. David noted that it wasn't a look of shame or embarrassment, just sadness.

"I don't…blame you," said David.

"Oh really?" Scott asked bitterly.

"No," said David, "Because I don't think there's anything for you to be blamed for. You fell in love with someone. It happens."

"Not like this."

"No, which is where the complications arise," David sighed, "The thing is…did you know…she loved you too, right?"

Scott didn't say anything.

"I really don't want to be having this conversation," he said at last.

"Neither do I to tell the truth," said David, "But I don't have much of a choice really."

"Why not?" retorted Scott.

David winced from the sudden venom. The Scott he remembered wouldn't have done that, but David hadn't known Scott as well as he'd known Alex. The two brothers shared the same name and values but they executed them rather differently. David leaned back and marshaled his words.

"Because Megan entrusted me with her memories," he said, "And…I think I need to speak for Emma."

"Why?"

"Because no one else will," David said, "Not even herself, which I think says something."

Again Scott turned away.

"Listen to me," said David, "Are you worried we're going to be disappointed in you or something? I wouldn't marshal our approval so greatly. You're nearly thirty you know."

"Not really," Scott said, his voice strained, "It's not even about Alex. He might not approve but he won't cast me off because of it. He'd try to help me if he knew it was what I wanted."

"Alright," said David, trying to keep it straight in his head, "Is it because she-"

"It's nothing to do with her!" Scott snapped.

David rubbed his temples. Oh dear.

"Is this about Jean?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about this," said Scott.

"Do it now or you never will," David said.

Scott got up but didn't go to the door. From his stationary position David felt a little nervous from the pacing but tried not to show it. His head swum and he closed his eyes.

"Is it because you don't think this is a sure thing?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

He peeked his eye open, seeing that Scott had stopped at the door. Knowing he was on his last chance he tried to rephrase his words.

"Is it because it's not safe," he said, "I mean, I'm not a psychiatrist but you grew up seeing Alex and Lorna. They're a very…close couple I suppose. They were a foregone conclusion. And, I know what I'm about to say isn't quite respectful, but so were you and Jean. You were dating for so long, knew everything. Had your skeletons shown to each other for so long. There was no…risk in it I suppose."

"What are you trying to say?" asked Scott.

"That there's risk in Emma because you haven't known her like that," ventured David, "And I think that was fine for you when you didn't know yourself, but now things are changing. Is it scary because of that?"

Getting back in his chair Scott let out a frustrated breath.

"No, at least, not enough," he said, "I'm not…Emma…she gave everything. And now I'm not the man she had anymore. I'm carrying baggage and, to be honest, I'm not ready to do this ."

"What?"

"Be in love like this," Scott said, "She gave me herself completely and I can't do the same. And there's just…it's not good for either of us is what it comes down to. I think she sees things the same way to be honest."

David gave him a hard look. He really believed that. Then again, David might have believed that too if he hadn't seen Megan's memories.

"Look…I know you don't remember this…" he said, "But when I was sixteen I started helping find students to bring to Muir Island and Westchester. You trained me, let me know what to expect."

From the blank look on Scott's face David could tell that he didn't remember.

"You told me once what to do if I found any runaways," he said, "That…if they decided to come…to take a good look at what they had with them. The older they were the more practical things they'd bring. Even children try to bring practical things; food, clothes, money, that sort of thing."

He waved a hand dismissively.

"But you said that they almost always take one thing that had no possible practical use," he said, "And when someone is so damaged, sometimes the only way to learn about them is to find out from what they carry with them, keep close to them. Because those are the things they carry with them forever, care about almost as much as their own life if not more. Those with nothing attach themselves to things."

David gave him a long look.

"I don't know much about Emma, but I believe she was damaged somehow, damaged badly," he said, "And when she came here, risking quite a bit, she carried two things that weren't practical. One was Megan. The other was you."

Scott closed his eyes. David could have sworn that he saw tears gathering there.

"Thank you," he said, "I'm not sure how much that changed, but thank you for talking."

Feeling exhausted David nodded. Scott left his chair and walked out of the room. David watched him go, wondering if he had done anything to be thanked for.


	57. Chapter 57

"Everyone ready?" asked Doug.

Around the room there were nods, or as much as people could manage with their heads strapped into the headsets. Kurt felt awkward under the bulk of his headset and the way it pressed into his forehead. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his mother in her own headset, staring straight ahead.

He had only spoken a few words with her since the night where the Phoenix had taken control. She had refused to prolong any dialogue. It had confused him. Of course she cared about him; she had risked her life to save him. Why was she being so cold now, so incapable of being reached?

Kurt sighed as she moved her hand. He noticed that the skin was blue and scaly. On closer inspection he saw that the scales were creeping up the back of her neck and around the front of her throat. The damage of The Cure had nearly been undone and she was going to go soon. It would be too late then.

He stifled another sigh. Redirecting his attention saw Amanda behind the glass with Moira and Rahne. He knew that Maeve and Carly were downstairs. Doug was going to be continuously working on Cerebro Mark II while they were in it, and he'd enlisted their help with some of the more menial tasks like stripping wire on the different levels. Kurt gave Amanda a thumbs up, although her worried expression didn't change.

He'd assured her that what he was doing was safe, although he knew that it wasn't as safe as he'd have her believe. David had told them of the possible complications, of the fact that their memories would be jumbled up in the mix too. They could die in David's mind, even if they would just wake up in their own minds if that happened. They would still feel the pain though. That was why Hank had attached sensors to them, monitoring their heart rate.

Amanda had seemed burdened lately and she seemed like she was holding something back from him. Kurt knew she was upset but he had so little time with her because of his cousin's condition. He'd make sure that she was fine after all this was over.

She might also be wondering about TJ. Due to the level of danger in the procedure TJ and Luna had been told that it was simply routine while Terry and Luna's brothers had been filled in. He'd heard it didn't go so well when Will and Tom had been told, as tactfully as possible, that thier uncle had been abandoned byhis team. In any case they had been set to watching the younger children until the procedure was over.

Of course, Amanda could just be worried about the procedure period. Truthfully Kurt didn't feel comfortable doing what he was doing. However, David didn't look good. When he managed to sleep he started muttering feverish phrases under his breath, his body twitching and sweating. Kurt couldn't imagine the strain he was under. He looked as though he was wasting away and this was their one chance to save his life.

And then there was the matter of his uncle. Kurt craned his neck to the body in the next room over. If David was right then that would soon host his uncle. Flexing his fingers Kurt breathed out. So much was at stake that they couldn't afford to get anything wrong. His nerves formed a bundle in his throat. Still, he had the power to help him. He had to make this work.

"Okay," Doug said, "Ready Miss Frost?"

The woman in white behind the glass rolled her eyes. Kurt felt uncomfortable around her and her faerie-like shadow. He was glad that she was just going to oversee their progress, not actually be involved in it. He was already worried enough about his mother and Erik. She wasn't going to help matters.

"Of course," Emma said, adjusting her own headset behind the glass, "Hurry up."

Doug made a face but flipped a switch. Kurt noticed the momentary tenseness in Scott before lights began to blink around them.

"Everyone just relax," Doug said, "The machine should be calibrated in three…two…one…"

Kurt felt like he'd been picked up and tossed into the air, doing more summersaults than he'd ever done in his act at the circus. He landed on his feet in a soft blackness. His hand flexed and he recognized the texture of his X-Force uniform. Kurt stared at himself, confused. Looking over he saw that David was wearing his as well, looking perplexed.

"I'm a little confused," David admitted, "I suppose it's because I always felt safe around these uniforms…strong…something…"

"I'm not complaining," said Alex, walking up and adjusting his, "These are more comfortable."

The other members of the X-Force nodded, flexing their shoulders. Scott was wearing a pure black uniform without the red X. Kurt vaguely remembered that the X-Men wore that.

"It doesn't matter," said David, sighing, "Now, is everyone here? Even the ones I can't see?"

"We're here."

Behind David Erik and Mystique walked up. Thier clothes were different too, looking exactly how he'd first seen them nearly two years ago. David nodded.

"Alright," he said, "Our minds should be coordinated by Emma about now. Once we're all together then the memory should-"

He was cut off as a ballroom spread around them. Teenagers pulled each other into the middle, swirling long dresses. A band played on a raised platform as roses reached the ceiling. Paper banners had been made and hung up on the wall. Kurt stared around him, feeling out of place.

"-assert itself," David finished, "Anyone know what this is?"

Hank sighed and stared at a wall.

"I knew that banner was crooked," he said.

"So you know where we are?" asked David.

"Most of us do," Sean sighed, "It's senior prom."

"Junior for me," Lorna said.

"Yeah, but I invited you," said Alex, "Otherwise you wouldn't have gotten in. So it's a senior prom."

The proof of his words became apparent as his younger self walked by them, pulling a laughing teenage Lorna.

"Pictures too?" she asked.

"Yeah," Alex said, "A few kids have photography equipment, so go us!"

She gave him a skeptical look.

"Hey," Alex said, "I said I'd take you to the prom. And that means I'm doing things properly."

He pulled her into the line.

"Huh," Scott said, watching his brother, "Nice tux."

"It was a rental, shut up," said Alex.

Across from him Erik tilted his head at Lorna and Alex in the line. Kurt could see that there was speculation in that look, a hint of something far away. Erik shook his head as the photographer motioned to them and they stepped forward. Someone had constructed an archway with roses growing in the trellises.

The couple arranged themselves. Lorna put a hand around his back and onto his shoulder. It displayed the corsage on her wrist perfectly. In response to her hand Alex put an arm around her waist. They smiled and the camera flashed a few times. When it was finishing up he motioned to a younger Hank and Sean, who were standing on the sidelines.

"Very nostalgic, but does anyone know where my father is in this memory?" asked David.

"Yeah, he was chaperoning with your mom," Alex said, "I think we said something about it…oh, here we go."

Under the trellis Lorna was laughing.

"Team picture?" she asked.

"For posterity," he answered.

"Yeah, posterity," Sean said, "Whatever."

"Maybe the Professor and housekeeper should be in on it," said Hank, jerking his head towards where they were standing against a wall.

"Nah," said Alex, "This is just an informal picture for us kids. Come on."

"There," said David, "We have to get over there."

They navigated through the waves of dancing teenagers. Kurt saw his uncle with one hand around his aunt's wrist, smiling fondly at her. She was starting to say something as they reached them. The room began to melt and change around them, warbling. Alex smiled and adopted a nonchalant look.

"That was easy," he said.

"It's going to get harder the deeper we go," David said, "Right now we're just vaguely following a path. And we have the element of surprise on our hands. If the Phoenix finds out what we're doing then things are going to get sticky."

A hardware store shifted around them. Sean took one look at the setting and groaned, burying his head in his hands.

"God this is embarrassing."

"What?" asked David.

A few feet away from them Kurt saw a younger version of his aunt and Sean speaking.

"Pretty name," said Moira, "So, how long have you been coming to the hardware store because of her?"

"…about…four months."

"Four months," nodded Moira, "And are the two of you…?"

"No," Sean said, still looking away, "…neverevenspokentoher…"

"Wait, you've never even spoken to her?" asked Moira in disbelief, "Then how do you know her name?"

"She wears a name tag…" he muttered.

Moira put her hands on her hips.

"Sean, you're really nice and one of the most loyal and brave people I've met," she said, "You've been given an incredible gift and have used it responsibly."

Sean narrowed his eyes. The older Sean made a strangled noise as Alex coughed out a laugh.

"But I'm surprised that at your age you don't know that if you like a girl, but at the same time you don't talk to her, **nothing is going to happen**," emphasized Moira.

"Nothing will happen if I talk to her either," Sean said, snapping his head up, "Don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly smooth with the uh, girls."

"But if you keep looking at her like that, going to certain places to see her, finding out her name without talking to her, then you're a stalker," Moira explained gently.

"She's right about that," Alex said.

"But-"

"But nothing," said Moira, "Go talk to her."

"I…I can't."

"You can stop a nuclear war, you can do this," Moira said.

He shook his head.

"Sean," said Moira, "If you don't' go over and talk to her I'll tell Alex you ran away from a girl."

Alex burst out laughing as the younger Sean looked at her in fear.

"Really Sean?" laughed Alex, "Really? I was your deterrent? Really? Do it or I'll tell your friends? What were you, a twelve year old girl?"

"That's not funny Alex," Lorna said.

"No, it is a little funny," Hank said.

Kurt could see that even Erik had a ghost of a smile on his face. His cousin seemed to be struggling to control himself but said;

"So where's my father in all of this?" he asked.

"I think he uh…I can't quite remember...I was kind of preoccupied with getting her phone number-" Sean said, looking as though he'd happily sink into the floor.

"Yeah, bet you were," Alex chuckled.

"But, I remember him coming and picking us up," Sean said, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah."

He pointed over to Moira who was smiling and discussing something with his father.

"I still don't know what the hell they were saying to each other," he said, "Probably saying something about my inability to talk to girls."

Alex let out another snort of laughter. David shook his head and motioned to them with his hand.

"Come on," said David.

They moved forward. Again the room began to swirl and melt, although this time there was a rumbling. Kurt felt the earth shift beneath his feet and he nearly fell. Light started to come from all sides, a terrible pure light. He saw his cousin's eyes go wide with fear, but there was enough rage in him to clench his fist.

"It knows," he said, "We have to hurry."

"Hurry?" asked Erik "Before what?"

The light poured in. Some of it skimmed Hank's arm, causing him to draw back in pain. The smell of burning hair filled the air.

"Hank!" Sean said.

"It's fine, just a superficial burn," Hank said.

He dodged another beam of light, rolling so that he was level with the rest of the group. All around them cracks in the darkness around them appeared as more light seeped through. David flung out his hand and the light began to push back, although Kurt could see the considerable strain David was under.

"We have to move onto the next memory," he said, "I didn't expect it to find out so soon…but we have to move. We're not strong enough to beat it as things are. Come on!"

With another motion of his hand the team hurried forward. Looking over his shoulder Kurt could see that the burning light was seeping through more and more. The last thing he thought before they were whisked away to the next memory was that this was indeed more dangerous than he'd let Amanda know.


	58. Chapter 58

Luna clutched the chain links of the swing, her feet not quite touching the ground. TJ sat beside her, looking at her with big eyes. Will, Tom, and Terry were chasing each other through the jungle bars in the distance, doing some sort of exercise. Their calls to one another were one of the few noises in the air. All of the other kids were having nap time or had gone home for the summer.

In theory her brothers and Terry were supposed to be watching her but instead they'd left her in the care of TJ. She didn't mind.

"Everything okay?" asked TJ.

Luna shook her head.

"Mama and daddy and uncwe Scott are doin' something dangerous," she whispered, "Gwandpa too."

"Aw, don't worry about that," TJ said, "Dr. McCoy says it's just routine."

Luna hesitated. TJ spoke with such conviction, but Luna had seen the colored swirls of everyone in her family.

"Maybe he doesn't know," Luna said.

"Don't worry. Kurt's with them. He'll protect them," TJ said, her voice brimming with confidence.

Across the way she heard Will shout something at Tom. Luna sighed and pushed herself forward with her toes. She knew something was wrong, knew too much about the colors to believe like TJ did. Sometimes Luna wished she had her friend's confidence instead of her doubts, but the colors seemed too special to give up.

The colors had shown her scary things though, things she felt were best off not knowing. Four year-olds, even if they were nearly five, weren't supposed to know everything. Her eyes closed and remembered her grandfather's colors. An involuntary shudder rippled through her.

Luna opened her eyes again and considered her next question. TJ always seemed so smart to her and her white swirls were disappearing. She might know the answer.

"TJ…you wove Amanda and Kurt, wight?" she asked.

"Of course," TJ replied promptly.

"What if you thought, maybe, they were doin' somethin' bad?" asked Luna.

"They wouldn't," TJ said, frowning.

"I'm not sayin' they awe," said Luna quickly, "But…if you saw somethin' you didn't like, what would you do?"

"They wouldn't," repeated TJ, "What's this about?"

Looking down at the ground Luna whispered;

"I wove my gwandpa."

"Okay," TJ said, "I don't really know him, but that sounds normal."

"Maybe," Luna said, "But…he's got…thewe is this…"

She waved her hand around.

"You know about the cowows?"

"Yep. Maybe it's a mutation," said TJ, "Like my tail."

TJ's tail flickered out to emphasis her point. Luna smiled; this was the first time she'd mentioned the colors and TJ hadn't said it was because she was a moon princess. Her smile died when she remembered what she was talking about. Next to her TJ cocked her head at Luna's sudden change of expression.

"When you met him," said Luna, "Thewe was this woman and…when I fiwst saw him he was aww bwue an' yewwow and silvew. I don't wike the bwue ow silvew. It's not happy."

"Gotcha," said TJ.

"Didn't want him to be silvew of me," she said, "But he was and then he wasn't 'cause I wanted to tawk. And I was happy. But when he was tawking to this woman…he was gway."

"Gray?" asked TJ.

"Gway," Luna confirmed, "And I knew it wasn't good and then…thewe was this bwack thing gwowing wight here."

A tiny fist formed and pounded her chest.

"And I wondewed if it huwt," said Luna, "But thewe was yewwow too. How can someone be yewwow about gway? But the bwak was weally scawy and…"

She trailed off. TJ slid off her swing and stood in front of her.

"You think your grandpa's a bad person?" she asked.

"Not aww the time," Luna murmured.

TJ stood behind Luna and started to push her swing.

"I don't think he's bad. I think he cares about you," said TJ.

"I know, but thewe's bwack."

"So?" TJ shrugged, "Does it worry you?"

"Kinda," admitted Luna.

"I'm sure it's nothing," said TJ, "He won't hurt you."

"I know," said Luna, "But…it doesn't feew wight."

"I think there's a lot we don't understand," said TJ.

She paused.

"Do you really think what they're doing is something to worry about?" asked TJ.

Luna nodded and TJ sighed.

"One of the things I don't really understand is why adults lie to kids," she muttered, "Somtimes I think it's for their protection."

Luna looked over her shoulder at her friend.

"So what they'we doing is dangewous?" she asked,

"Maybe," admitted TJ, "I don't know with Dr. McCoy. Amanda or Kurt wouldn't lie to me. I like Dr. McCoy, but I think he would if he had a reason."

TJ pushed her in silence for a few minutes. Luna chewed her lip thoughtfully as she watched her brothers on the playground.

"My famiwy's thewe," she said.

"Mine too," said TJ.

"Will my bwothews take us there?" asked Luna.

"No, don't think so," said TJ, "I think they know, but they think we're too young. That's why they're watching us."

"But they wove me."

"And people lie sometimes even though they love each other, maybe for protection," said TJ, "But…I don't know if I agree. I think I'll be an X-man when I get older. Then no one will have to lie to me because they'll know I can protect myself."

"Hmmm," Luna said.

She watched her brothers for a few minutes. The wind started to pick up and the trees bent in the wind. Luna watched her brothers tilt their heads up. Terry shielded her eyes as a large plane passed overhead. The three of them shared a look. Luna slipped out of her swing and inched closer to them, TJ following close behind.

"We should check that out," said Tom.

"I think Miss MacTaggert will take care of it," said Terry, "She's good at this."

"She's busy in the you-know-where doing you-know-what," said Tom, casting a reproachful eye over at Luna, "Besides, we're X-men."

"No, we're not," said Terry, sounding irritated, "as they keep telling us we're still in training."

"Then this is our chance to prove it," Will said, "Come on, it's a plane landing here. Someone needs to do something about that and it won't be them. They're…"

He looked over at TJ and Luna.

"They're busy," he said finally.

"But your sister and TJ-" started Terry.

"We'ww stay wight here," Luna piped up, "Go wook at the pwane."

Terry looked indecisively at the plane for a moment before nodding her head.

"Alright, come on you two."

Will and Tom gave a brief smile at Luna before hurrying off with Terry. Luna walked back to the swing and sat down in one of them. TJ went back to pushing her, neither of them saying anything. The playground was silent other than the creaking of the swing set as Luna swung her legs.

"Awe they gowne?" she asked.

"Yep," said TJ.

TJ stopped pushing the swing and Luna slid out of it.

"I wove them," said Luna, "So I won't teww them I'm getting them in twouble. Wanna go find ouw famiwies?"

Her friend smiled and nodded.

"Wet's go," said Luna. 

* * *

><p>The Blackbird touched down and Ororo rubbed her head. The rest of the X-men had gotten into their uniforms and been briefed on the way there. Nothing seemed to be wrong with the Island instead of the lack of people at the control tower. If not for that Ororo would have thought it was just another day at Muir Island. Instead she was filled with trepidation.<p>

In the back Rogue looked at her hands quietly. Ororo hadn't thought that bringing her with them was a good idea. She was too emotionally fragile but Logan had argued for her. If she was left out of this too he thought it would further alienate her. He knew her better so, in the end, Ororo had deferred to him.

"Hey Professor?" asked Bobby, tapping at his window, "There're some kids on the tarmac."

Ororo frowned and looked out the window. She sighed as she saw Terry, Will, and Tom.

"They look fine so it's probably safe," said Ororo, "Their parents would probably be with them if they were on high alert."

Next to her Logan made a face.

"So what're they doing here if everything's so peachy?" he demanded.

"I have no idea," sighed Ororo, "But we should probably find out."

Logan snorted and Ororo lowered the ramp. She unbuckled and walked out first, followed closely by the rest of the team. As she walked down she noted that the children had formed a sort of reception committee. Terry was in the middle and a few steps forward of the other two. Ororo recognized it as a standard defensive maneuver and she wondered how much training they had done.

"Hey Professor Munroe," said Terry, smiling.

"Good to see you Terry," Ororo said, "Will, Tom."

The boys nodded in acknowledgement. She had yet to be their teacher and thus, in their eyes, hadn't quite garnered their respect. They only knew her from a few visits as a family friend. Ororo wasn't sure how she stood with them. In all of her years as a teacher and X-man she had learned only one thing applicable to the situation; members of the Summers family were highly mercurial.

"We were hoping to speak with Dr. Xavier or Mr. Summers."

Terry shifted.

"They're busy," she said, "That's why we're here."

Ororo frowned and cast a glance at Logan. He raised his eyebrows and Ororo turned her attention back to the children.

"This is rather important," she said, "We really need to talk to them."

"And they really are busy," Terry said, "I'm sorry about this but they really can't talk right now."

"Why not kid?" said Logan.

His words came out as a slight snarl. Ororo gave him a reproachful glare but noticed that Terry hadn't flinched. She gave Logan a defiant look. True; he was scary and Terry had only just turned fourteen. However, Terry had been shot in the neck with a tranquilizer and endured a hellish few hours in the woods. Her father was one of the first X-men. Terry was made of stronger stuff.

So were the two boys. She noticed the odd look that Will was giving Logan but it was lost as Terry began to speak again.

"They're doing some routine matinence," said Terry, "The Warlock system has to be updated every now and then. They'll be done sometime the day after tomorrow. That would probably be a better time. We can house you until then if you want to save on fuel."

Despite herself Ororo had to admire the smoothness with which Terry had told the lie. If she didn't know better than she would have believed her.

"Kid," said Logan, "that's a damned lie and we know it. So how 'bout you tell us what they've decided to do about Legion."

Ororo saw the color leech from Terry's face. She pressed her lips into a thin line and looked between them.

"It's okay Terry," Ororo said, "We're all on the same team."

She saw Terry considering her words. For a minute she was hopeful that the girl would just tell them.

"Hey, know this isn't really relevant," said Will, tilting his head and looking at Logan, "But are you Logan? Like, Wolverine Logan?"

Logan nodded, looking at the twelve-year-old warily. Will's eyes narrowed and his brother's jaw tightened.

"You sonuvabitch," said Will.

Confusion and irritation flickered in Logan's eyes. Ororo opened her mouth to say something. However, red light was gathering in Will's hands. Before she could interject Will had already sent a bolt of red energy at Logan's chest. He was knocked back several feet before hitting the tarmac hard. He got up almost immediately.

"What the hell kid?" he demanded.

"Oh, we're just getting warmed up asshole," Tom said.


	59. Chapter 59

"How are they doing?" asked Doug.

"Alright," Emma said, her eyes closed lightly, "They were doing extraordinarily well until a minute ago."

"They've only been in there for three minutes," Amanda said.

Emma cracked an eye open.

"It's been closer to thirty for them," she said, "Time goes slower in the mind. How else do you think you form coherent thought, or lack thereof?"

She snorted and Amanda went back to stripping wire, looking irritated. Moira wondered if she was going to make it her personal mission to insult everyone there. No comment was too low and she'd barely spoken a word without acid in her voice. It was certainly the Emma Frost that Moira remembered.

She was trying to make allowances; David had spoken to her about what he'd seen in Megan's mind after all. He had seemed especially sympathetic to Megan, but he had been in her thoughts. Emma's shadow was sitting next to her, her eyes open and staring straight ahead. Her hands were folded in her lap over her dagger.

Next to her Rahne flipped a switch and frowned.

"I got some good news and some bad news," said Rahne,

"Great," Doug said, "Is it about the machine or-"

"No. And that's the good news. This has nothing to do with Cerebro Mark II," said Rahne.

"That's a relief," Doug sighed.

"Now for the bad news; something's shown up on the Island's radar," she said, "Something big."

"Big like what?" asked Moira, fusing two wires together.

"Like the Blackbird," Rahne said.

She let go of the wires abruptly. How on earth could the X-men be there? The only one who was really acquainted with Muir Island was Ororo and she had a school to run. Why would they chose now to visit, to leave everything behind? The school term wasn't over yet. There was no reason for them to be there, unless they knew about her son's condition.

"They couldn't know what's going on, could they?" asked Moira.

"Considering I felt the psionic explosion Washington it's quite possible," Emma said, "Imagine, a whole school of little telepaths clutching their heads."

She gave a small snort of laughter. Moira breathed in deeply and tried to remember everything that David had told her about his beliefs of Emma's façade. If they were true then Emma was a very accomplished actress. Her mind went to the burns on her arms before she formed her response.

"There aren't any telepaths at Westchester with that kind of power right now," Moira said, "So they can't."

"Um, they could know," said Doug, "In theory at least. It depends how far they've gotten to installing the Warlock system."

"Why would that make a difference?" Amanda asked.

"The Warlock system is a security system specifically tailored to our two facilities with the idea that if one was in danger then the other could send help," Doug said, "It's good in most situations but uh, if they saw this and…I know there's a lot of emotion with them and the Phoenix..."

"There's a lot of emotion here too," said Rahne.

She got up and headed for the door.

"I'm going to go talk to them," she said, "Ororo should be leading them. I'm pretty sure I can reason with her. I'll be back soon."

The door slid shut behind her and Moira went back to the wires. Doug adjusted a dial before turning to Emma.

"And how far in are they?" asked Doug.

"About an eighth," Emma said, "No casualties so far. The only injury is a burnt paw."

"That means they're reaching critical levels," said Doug, "This is where everything gets real delicate."

As though to emphasize his words there was a fizzing noise. Smoke fizzed from behind one of the panels. He made a face and hoisted the panel off. More smoke poured into the room and he coughed, waving it away. He pulled on his work gloves and grabbed some of the stripped wire.

"I'm going in," he said.

Putting on a pair of goggles he dived in and began replacing the wires. He went so far in that Moira could only see his feet poking out. Moira saw that some of them had burned out and were starting to fizzle. A small line of smoke was still blowing from the panel. Just seeing that made her want to work faster. There was so much at risk for her.

All of them, with the exception of Megan and Emma, had family members in the machine. She worried for her son and nephew, worried that David might not be able to save her husband. She worried for her old students, for the colleagues that they had become. On some level she even worried for Erik and Mystique, though not much. Mostly it was in relation to all the answers Lorna and Kurt would never receive if they died.

The door slid open. Moira wondered if perhaps the blip on the radar had been wrong and Rahne was back already. Instead she saw Luna and TJ standing there.

"Amanda?" Moira said.

Amanda looked up.

"TJ?" she asked, dropping her wire and scrambling to her feet, "What on earth are you doing here?"

"My fauwt," Luna said, "Towd her I wanted to come so we came. Whewe's my famiwy?"

Biting her lip Amanda knelt in front of the two girls. Moira made a private not to have some choice words with Terry and Luna's brothers. Tom and Will loved their sister, she knew enough of them to know that. However, when they wanted to do something it was impossible to dissuade them. It must run in the family.

"They're busy right now," Amanda said, "You two shouldn't be here-"

"They gonna die?" asked TJ, looking scared.

"Of course not," reassured Amanda, "But this is no place for kids."

TJ gave her an even look.

"Amanda, I love you," she said, "Lots."

Amanda blinked and Moira cocked her head.

"But I wanna know what's going on," said TJ, "And so does Luna."

"That's wight," said Luna, "That's most of my famiwy. Wanna know what's goin' on. Teww me."

Luna's lisp was becoming more pronounced as she talked. Behind her back she began to wring her hands, looking around with her eyes. Since coming into the room she had become more agitated. Moira looked at the little girl with silver eyes and wondered what it was she was seeing that was scaring her so much. Luna had grown up with large pieces of equipment and strange rooms. This was nothing new to her.

"Look, can we get the munchkins out of the room?" Emma said, swiveling around in her chair, "Lock them in a broom closet if that's what it takes."

Bile rose in Moira's throat. She went to tell Emma to shut up when she saw Luna walk up to her.

"You'we so bwue," she said, "So vewy bwue. And white. My uncwe's weally nice. Why did he make you sad?"

Something flickered in Emma's eyes. Her lips formed a thin line.

"Get her out of here," she said, swiveling away in her chair and staring straight ahead, "I don't care how."

Doug unearthed himself from the panel and shut it. Soot covered his gloves and he coughed.

"I really don't want to deal with this right now," said Doug, "Why don't you two go back to the others? We'll tell you everything when this is over, okay?"

"Not okay," said TJ, stamping her foot, "Besides, we don't know where they are. They went off after the plane."

Doug moaned and Moira released a frustrated breath.

"Figures," said Doug.

"Rahne will find them then," said Moira.

She glanced at the two girls and then at Amanda.

"I think they can take it," said Amanda, "I don't like lying to TJ and…I don't know about Luna but if TJ knows anything she's just going to tell Luna later."

"That's right," said TJ.

Sighing Moira stripped another wire.

"Fine, tell them. And get them stripping wire. As long as they're here we might as well double our work efforts." 

* * *

><p>Alex felt like he'd been unceremoniously tossed into a bag of bricks and then dropped. Everything ached and he had to shake his head to clear it. Everyone around him looked as though they were having similar experiences. He walked over to Lorna and Scott, making sure that they were fine before looking around.<p>

He was looking at the expanded Danger Room. It was one of his memories, he could tell in the pit of his gut. Looking up he saw himself in the observation room, looking down as his brother's flight of X-men filed in for their third Danger Room session. Scott and him exchanged a look before wincing.

"This one's mine," Alex announced before David could ask, "I'm about to activate the Danger Room. The Professor's going to come in halfway through to see how the new recruits are doing."

"So we just have to get to the observation room and wait?" asked Sean.

"Yeah, I think so," Alex said.

"Well what are we-?" began David.

"Danger Room Session level five beginning now," Alex's voice boomed over the speaker.

A younger Jean looked up at the observation room with panic.

"We're only level one!" she protested.

The room began to move, saws and whirling parts detaching themselves. This was before Hank had installed the virtual reality system. They were using real things. Alex had been confident that they could avoid the more dangerous things. The saws were stationary at this level, just put there to scare. Still, most of them had been beaten black and blue by the simulation.

A saw whizzed past him and cut into his arm. He cried out as blood seeped from his arm into his uniform.

"What?" he yelled.

Across from him parts of the beams came down, nearly crushing Erik. The beam was metal so Erik deflected it, pushing it away. However, Alex could see that the rest of the team were having similar problems. The Danger Room was swirling and moving much faster than was normal for a level five.

"What's going on David?" he yelled.

"We're getting attacked by the memory," David said, flipping backwards to avoid a laser, "It knows we're here. We have to get out, and fast!"

"Okay, observation room!" said Alex, "Right now!"

"Nein schwierigkeit," Kurt said.

He grabbed Alex with his arm. His tail flickered out and grabbed Lorna. In a puff of black smoke they were in the observation room. Kurt disappeared a second later and came back with Erik and David. With a few more trips the rest of the team were in the observation room, watching Alex nod at his actions with approval.

"You always were a little sick," said Scott.

"Hey," panted Alex, "It prepped you guys pretty well."

From the corner of the room the same bright light he'd seen earlier started to tendril in. He recoiled from it instinctively just as the door opened.

"Alex, I told you to train them," Charles said, pushing himself in, "Not to kill them. There is a difference."

"They'll be ready when they face the Brotherhood this way," said a younger Alex, "And they're not going to care whether they're ready or not."

A tendril of light began to wrap around the room. David waved his hand again and they ran to his father. Again the scene melted and began to realign, the light getting further and further away. Alex looked behind him, feeling nervous. It was starting to mess with the memories now? That couldn't be good.

As though reading his thoughts, which he might have been, David said;

"From now on we're going to have to move as fast as we can. It's close behind. We can't let it catch us."

"And what happens if it does?" asked Mystique.

David sighed.

"I don't know," he said, "But I have a feeling that it's not going to be good."

Remembering the way that the light began to surround them Alex felt inclined to agree with David.


	60. Chapter 60

"Will, stop it right now!" Ororo commanded.

Ignoring her Will gathered up more light in his hands. Terry had known that it was a bad idea to go after the plane, but she had wanted to prove herself. Then again, if she had really wanted to prove herself, then she would stop Will. Part of her wanted to; he was starting a fight. The other part, the part that was Will's friend and Scott's student, wanted to egg him on and cheer his name.

She looked over at the rest of the X-men. Terry had learned their names in school, watching jealously for the day when she would be able to join their ranks. The only one of them she was really acquainted with was Piotr because he'd saved her when the school had been invaded. Still, she knew who they were.

Bobby extended his arm and ice began to flow towards Will. Terry watched as Bobby suddenly found the place he was sending ice towards empty. A few yards away Tom let go of his brother before running behind Bobby and kicking him in the shin. Bobby let out a howl that Terry had to stifle a laugh at as Tom zoomed off.

Terry had to be impressed with the calmness that Will was blasting Logan. His blasts weren't strong enough to kill, not even enough to seriously injure. Will wasn't murderous even though he did want to hurt him. However, Logan did seem to be pissed. Tom whisked him away just in time to avoid getting pulled into the air. Suddenly the situation didn't seem so funny anymore.

Doing the only thing she knew to do when she wanted someone's attention Terry threw her head back and screamed. Everyone on the tarmac simultaneously covered their ears and dropped to the ground. Her father had taught her how to warble her pitches so it didn't make her sick, but it still had the same effect on others.

When she finished she walked over to Will and Tom.

"Sorry, he would have turned you into puppy chow," she said.

"Not if…not if you told us to…to…cover our ears," grumbled Tom.

Terry shrugged and helped them up. She spared a glance at Logan who was getting his balance back faster than the others. Since he was a feral she had expected his recovery would have taken longer than the others. He really was invincible and, at the moment, very angry. It wasn't a good conversation. Squaring her shoulders Terry said;

"You're going to have to forgive Tom and Will."

He gave her a look that, if she didn't have her team mates to think about, would have sent her running for the hills.

"Kid, I don't hafta do **anything**," he snarled.

"Asshole," coughed Will.

He narrowed his eyes and Terry swallowed. If she didn't do something another fight could break out and she couldn't stop it without giving everyone permanent ear canal damage. Then she remembered the reason why Will and Tom were angry in the first place. Her face hardened and she tilted her head defiantly. He wasn't going to get the better of her, and she was sure as hell not going to let herself get intimidated by him.

"You left their uncle for dead," she said, "They're understandably upset."

Logan stumbled to his feet, his eyes still narrowed.

"I have literally **no **idea what you're talking about," he snapped.

"I daresay you don't."

Terry winced and saw Rahne climb the steps to the tarmac. Rahne scanned her eyes over the scene and sighed.

"I heard your scream as soon as I stepped outside," she said, "Really, all of you? We can't count on you for a few hours?"

"Sorry about this Miss MacTaggert," Terry said.

"You should be. You're the flight leader, they're your responsibility," said Rahne, "But you couldn't have known Logan would be here and nice handle with the scream. Your parents are going to hear about this though, all of you."

Will stifled a laugh before crossing his arms.

"Yeah, mom'll let us have ice cream when she hears," Tom snorted, "Dad might even take us to Disney."

"The hell is the problem with these kids?" demanded Logan, "Their parents convicts or somethin'?"

Rahne gave him a cool look.

"William and Thomas have had a rather bad year," she said, "As have the rest of the Summers family, for obvious reasons."

Terry saw some of the anger leech out of Logan's face. Turning pointedly from him Rahne gave Ororo a weak smile.

"Hey 'ro," she said, "Good to see you again. What brings you to this neck of the woods? School doesn't let out at Westchester for another week."

Ororo gave her a blank look.

"Likewise," said Ororo, "But don't think I'm a fool Rahne."

Rahne sighed.

"So, we only meet at weddings, funerals, and crisises," said Rahne, "I wish our meetings could be under better circumstances though."

"It's not in our cards," said Ororo, "But we have to stop what you're doing. You can't think it's a good idea."

"Excuse me?"

"We know what's going on here Rahne."

Terry saw Rahne sigh and shake her head.

"Not if you're taking that tone," she said.

On her arm Terry saw a wristband light up. She adjusted a dial and read the message that was being transmitted to her. Terry had envied her father for his and he'd let her wear it for twenty minutes once. It made her feel grown-up. She wished she had it on. It might make her feel like she was a little smarter than a two year old.

"Shit," Rahne said.

She gave a pointed glance at Terry and the brothers.

"You know how you were supposed to be watching Luna and TJ?" asked Rahne, "Little girls, about this high?"

She made a gesture with her hands to indicate height.

"Yeah, and don't take that tone. It's not like we left them in the middle of the street or anything," frowned Will, "They're at the playground."

"No," Rahne said, "they're in the control room."

"Aw, Luna!" Tom said.

"That's a little hasty, blaming Luna," said Rahne.

"Luna's a Summers," Terry said, "And she's too curious. So yeah, it's probably her fault."

Rahne chuckled to herself. She looked around her as though suddenly remembering that the X-men were there.

"Oh," she said, "Well, too late to avoid this. I suppose you all can come with me; you need to understand."

* * *

><p>The room around Emma was silent. She was grateful for that. Luna's words had left her shaken. She never wanted anyone to know what she was feeling and then that brat had told everyone. She wished it hadn't happened, wished she had never set eyes on the silver-eyed girl.<p>

The children had been moved to one level down to strip wire. Moira had taken them since there was a slight fusion problem there she could fix. Doug had remained since most of the work would be done on that level. He was inside a panel now, silently threading wires together and replacing memory cards.

That left her to focus on the task in front of her. Emma could feel their minds through the machine. It really was quite wonderful. If she had the energy she'd try to steal the plans and have her own. Still, she didn't have the heart for such plotting. She hadn't had the heart for high profile plotting in years. Raising Megan had taken up too much of her time.

She looked over at her daughter. She had grown up alright, hadn't she? Emma admitted that it hadn't been the kind of childhood that a girl would dream of but there had been love there. That was more than many people got. It was, in many ways, more than Emma had gotten. At least she had had Christian through those years.

Deep inside of her she could feel that her life was changing. A turning point had been reached and it had been Scott's fault and, to be honest, Megan's as well. Before Megan Emma had been content to survive and find security with material objects. After Megan had come she had felt that she was the most important thing, although she still highly valued her physical security and power.

Each year whittled that away a little more. She attended Hellfire functions and was still the uncontested White Queen. However, she was caring about it less and less. A life where all she had to worry about was raising her daughter and doing things pertaining to daily life seemed more appealing. Still, she had known that it was unrealistic. So she pushed those thoughts down and told herself that she knew better.

However, Scott had come and broken her last threads of illusion. Emma had allowed herself to dream, something very dangerous. She had let someone love her in a way that she had never experienced. It had all seemed so perfect. What could possibly go wrong when she felt this way, like these people mattered more than everything?

Then the illusion had shattered. During her night of tears with Megan she had realized something that was going to change everything. Although she could, she had no desire to go back to her old life. It didn't seem appealing anymore. In fact it seemed downright disgusting, the White Queen and the power that went with it an empty title.

She had experienced what life was like with people and she had the feeling she couldn't go back. Still, what else was left for her to do? Emma had lost her dream, lost her way. However, she hadn't lost Megan. If she tried really hard she could go back to the way things were and forget Scott had ever come to her life. If she was really good then she might not end up crying herself to sleep every night for her lost dream.

The door opened behind her. She felt Megan tense and then relax. Emma cracked an eye and looked at the newcomers. She remembered them vaguely from her dossier compiled about the X-Men. Although she had known how young most of them were she was still a little surprised. Emma raised her eyebrows at them.

"Children playing soldiers," she said.

The one she knew was named Logan gave her a sharp look.

"And you are…?"

"Temporary," Emma said, turning back to the console, "Don't mind me darling but next time you make a mess of things don't do it so that I'm the cleanup crew."

"I'm getting a little sick of this," Logan growled.

"Ignore her," Rahne said, leaning up against the wall, "This is the control room I told you about. It's all monitored, it's all controlled. Doug, who built this system, is working on it right now. Dr. Xavier is upstairs where I sent the children along with Maeve and Carly. They're doing some basic technology monitoring. And for back-up we have Amanda Sefton here."

Piotr turned to Amanda, his eyes curious and somewhat interested. Emma could have laughed. She could tell attraction when she saw it. Pity he was about to find out he'd been beaten by Azazel's son. Emma nearly smirked again. She'd seen Amanda's mind. No matter how bad her life was at least she wouldn't have her child angrily confronting her about their parentage.

Rogue stared at Amanda, her look rather different from her friend's.

"As in the Sefton Suit?" asked Rogue.

"Yeah," she said, "I woke up a few weeks ago. Not quite strong enough to go home yet but strong enough to help."

"Yeah, introductions all around," Logan said drily, "Back to topic. You think you have this under control?"

His words were incredulous and condescending.

"Yes," Rahne answered icily.

"Rahne, I saw Jean come undone when this was in her," said Ororo, "There isn't anything about it you can control."

"But I have a way," Doug said, entering the room from the side panel, "It's a way that's constantly shifting, but it's a way."

He looked at Logan. Emma continued to watch. Despite her troubles she was amused. This was better than television.

"Not that any sort of complicated idea could manage to get through your head, so it's okay if you don't understand," said Doug.

"Alright, that's it!" Logan snapped, "What the hell is it with everyone at this place? I barely know any of you!"

With a grim expression Doug walked over to the keyboard. He threw his gloves over his shoulder before pressing a button.

"I'm turning on the lights. Before I do so I'd highlight one of our participants, third on the left, pretty close. Close enough to make out facial features when the lights go on," said Doug, "I want you and Ororo to take a good look and tell me if he looks familiar."

The lights went on. A collective gasp travelled around the room.

"Scott," Ororo breathed.


	61. Chapter 61

With a slight nod of satisfaction Doug switched off the lights. They couldn't afford to waste power, and it had been a little theatrical, but they needed to know about the damage they had done. Their actions had also saddled them with the pain in the neck known as Emma Frost, and for that alone they should feel bad. It didn't matter if she was helping or not; she was bad news.

"Yeah," said Rahne, looking over Doug's shoulder at the control board and sounding bitter, "Scott. He was at Alkali Lake too you know. Just waiting there and you couldn't even try…I heard you found his sunglasses there."

Her lip curled. Doug could see a canine protruding there, something she only did when she was angry. He'd seen that snarl a lot in his life, though most times it was directed at enemies. Ororo had probably never seen it at her. If he were Ororo he'd probably be feeling rather cowed. She certainly warranted it.

"His family is pretty pissed," Rahne continued, "Which you saw from the little incident with his nephews."

Her eyes swivelled to Logan.

"I'd stay clear of Luna Summers if I were you."

"Why, she do what her brother does?"

"No, she's the only member of the Summers family you haven't managed to piss off seeing as she's only four," Rhane said, "If you meet her though I'm sure you'd have the whole collection."

Rahne gave Ororo a hard look. Ororo looked away, unable to meet her eyes.

"Most of us are pissed if I'm to be frank," she finished, "He had to be found by her."

She jerked a thumb over to Emma.

"What…who is she?" asked Ororo.

"Her name is Emma Frost," Megan answered promptly and with a touch of defiance, "Telepath and White Queen of the Hellfire Club."

Ororo's face hardened. They were all at least somewhat aware of the Hellfire Club.

"And you?" asked Ororo.

"I'm her bodyguard, Megan Gwyn," said Megan, her voice still stilted.

Doug wondered if everyone in the Hellfire Club permanently acted like someone had rained on their parade. It did seem to be a continuing trait.

"How powerful can she be if she needs a bodyguard?" Logan asked.

Megan tilted her head.

"Very," she said, "She's just too important to be bothered with anyone stupid enough to try and kill her."

"Good and fine," Ororo broke in, "But she found Scott? How?"

"Only she knows," shrugged Rahne.

Emma rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder.

"I'm quite busy here, so the less interaction I have with you lot the better," she said, "But if you have to know my bodyguard and I found him while we were exploring traces of a major psionic attack. He might have died from exposure in another few hours and yes, he had been left there. That's about the extent of my knowledge. Now don't distract me."

Logan and Ororo shared a look. The rest of the X-men seemed confused as well and Doug couldn't blame them. Emma confused him too. As for the situation with Scott the younger X-men had probably only been told that their teacher was dead, end of story. From what he'd heard there was even a headstone at Westchester for him. When Scott went back there, as he was sure his friend would soon, he hoped they at least had the sense to remove it.

"You couldn't have smelled him?" asked Rahne, glaring at Logan.

Doug winced. He knew that, as a feral, Rahne saw the world half in smells. She knew other ferals did as well and couldn't understand why Logan hadn't caught a wiff of Scott. From her point of view it was a catastrophic lack of effort. From the look on Logan's face he seemed somewhat disturbed too, but Doug wasn't in the mood to feel sorry for him.

"We were…preoccupied," Ororo said.

Something in her voice hinted that it wasn't enough. Doug was inclined to agree with her. Even Amanda, who knew next to nothing about the situation, looked unconvinced. She was an outsider in most of this and he admired her for doing her job and not trying to slip out of the room. Next to him Rahne snorted.

"I'm sure you were. Try and justify it to him and Alex once this is over," she said, "We have work to do."

Doug thought that would be the end of the argument. He began to fiddle with the wires, thinking it was over. Hence he was surprised when Ororo shook her head.

"Listen…I'll admit we made a mistake, and a horrible one," she said, "But this thing with David…you can't let it go forward."

"Excuse me?" asked Rahne.

"This thing can't be controlled," Logan said, "It's not gonna stop just 'cause you've tied a fancy machine to it."

"The machine isn't supposed to stop it," Doug explained, "It's trying to isolate parts of David's mind he wants to preserve so that the Phoenix can be blasted out later. It jsut amplifies his powers to do this. Rahne explained this, about the Professor, right?"

Ororo nodded.

"Listen, I understand why you all want to take the risk," said Ororo, her voice troubled, "Half of me wants to as well."

"Why doesn't the other half?" Rahne demanded.

He saw Ororo hesitate.

"This is too dangerous," she said.

"For who?" snapped Rahne.

"The participants for one," said Ororo.

"Speaking as the friend of most of these people," Amanda said, "They're all prepared to take the risk. All of them. I'd be in that machine if I could."

Piotr's eyebrows went up at her frank admission. Even Doug was a little surprised. She had been good friends with David and was in a serious relationship with his cousin. It did stand to reason.

"We're not willing to lay back and watch David die," she said.

"Like I am? Is that what you're trying to say?" asked Ororo, her eyes narrowing.

"No," said Amanda, her voice calm, "They just know what they're up against and they're prepared to face it. David's their family."

If even half of what he'd heard about how close Amanda and Kurt were then David would be her family soon too.

"And how about Magneto and Mystique?" asked Logan, "They suddenly feeling up to bein' good Samaritans?"

"There's a lot you don't know about them," said Rahne, "In a way David's their family too."

Amidst the surprised looks she elaborated;

"A messed-up family that can't be in the room with each other for more than five minutes, but family nonetheless."

She shrugged.

"Don't ask me too much, it was before my time," Rahne finished.

"I won't bother," Logan said.

"All of you, this is untried and too much could go wrong," said Ororo.

"Hey, I'm not someone who straps people into dangerous contraptions because I think it would be fun or something," Doug said, picking up a wrench from the counter, "That was Forge. Come on, it's the Cypher 'ro."

Her face didn't change at the old joke. He felt something flicker in him. Logan's doubt he could understand but not Ororo's. Wasn't this his friend? Hadn't they plotted out their codenames together, options that seemed too contrived scratched out on a piece of paper? Wasn't this the girl he had trained and fought the Brotherhood with? Even after all that, she wasn't listening and anger began to well up.

"I don't trust this-" she began.

"You don't trust this?" shouted Doug.

He threw the wrench on the floor. It clanged and bounced, falling harmlessly near the wall. Ororo's eyes widened in shock but he continued.

"Well that's just dandy Ororo!" he snapped, "Go ahead, don't trust us! Go ahead and think we're nutty and irresponsible morons. Go ahead! Who cares?"

She was looking at him like he had just sprouted carrots from his ears. He knew why. This was Doug, the boy with the passive, geeky power. He wasn't very good in combat, the best he could aspire to was being fast and controlling machines. Amanda even knew that was true; he was the easy grading professor, the one who coached his students patiently through their material. Doug had never been aggressive but this was too much.

Everything was swirling in his head, every doubt that he had about the machine he built. And oh yes, there were a lot of doubts. He was trying to essentially constantly reconfigure a machine with only a handful of people who actually knew what they were doing. He himself was feeling a little lost in something he had only ever put down on paper before.

No one had said anything negative, but he knew that the lives of his best friends were in his hands. The husband and son of the woman who'd helped him get past his lingering scars from his uncle's abuse could very well die if he messed up. He might even injure his friends somehow if he wasn't careful.

The last thing he needed was to be reminded that what they were doing was risky. Hysteria built in him until it burst from his lips, spitting out words he could only half hear.

"But there's something you should remember before you write this off," he panted, "When you first came to the school I was the one who tutored you. Rahne showed you your room and Alex taught you how to break someone's nose. Scott was your class president. And do you know what? I saved your life. You saved mine. How could we not? **We were X-men together**!"

He spat his last words out.

"If you don't trust us then you don't trust **anyone**!" Doug snapped, "And if you still think you should, you can try to shut this down. And we'll fight you, oh yes we will. We may be outnumbered but we'll do our damndest to stop you."

Doug gave a nasty laugh at her shocked look.

"That's how much we believe in this. You see, we **trust **each other," he said, "But I'll fight you if that's what you want. Just one thing; before we start this I want you to go upstairs and find Moira Xavier. I want you to tell her that, after everything she's been through, you're going to sentence her son and husband to death. Because if this doesn't work David's going to die and we'll lose the Professor too. That will kill Moira so we'll have lost all the Xavier's in one fell swoop!"

Doug pointed a trembling finger at her.

"Do you want to be responsible for that?" he demanded.

She stared at him.

"No…" Ororo whispered.

He nodded fiercely and ripped open another panel.

"Then start helping!"

Lorna opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. Freezing water surrounded her and it was now pouring into her eyes. Normally cold water was calming to her but this was different; she didn't know where she was. From the sting and haziness she felt sure that it was salt water. Although she was unsure of where she was, or where the others were for that matter, the tightness in her chest told her it was time to get moving.

She wasn't worried; she was a strong swimmer. She'd been that way for most of her life. Dance had instilled a level of discipline in her since an early age. The school at Westchester had also had a pool there. It was how she had met her husband in fact; going out for a late night swim.

Lorna came up spluttering. Water stretched out all around her, pushing her with the tide and trying to drag her under. Her feet began to thrash in the water, allowing her to tread it with some success. The ocean was choppy in that memory, why she didn't know. The memory certainly wasn't hers.

Looking over she saw Hank dragging David above the waves. If she remembered correctly Charles' son wasn't very good in the water. It had always worried his father because of the pool in the back of Westchester. He'd been there when he was little and Charles was worried he'd fall in when no one was around. Another reason to be worried of his inability to swim was that, when he wasn't at Westchester, he was on an island. It certainly wasn't the best environment for someone who couldn't swim.

She saw him spit out seawater. Some smoke appeared behind them and a moment later, they were gone. Kurt was getting rather good at teleporting them. She continued to tread water until she heard a 'bamf' noise behind her. Lorna threw her arm out for him to grasp before she allowed herself to be teleported away.

Beneath her knees Lorna felt sand. She touched it with her hands, trying to get her bearings and some sense of equilibrium. It was wet and powdery but she could have kissed it. The ocean was still rushing around in her ears and land was a welcome relief. Coughing up some seawater she looked around her.

The entire beach was totaled, looking like it had been the center of a war zone. Palm trees had been knocked down, their roots dangling in the air. Some were even on fire, emitting a thick cloud of black smoke into the air. Deep grooves had been worn into the sand and bits of metal were strewn around the beach.

As far as she could tell the cause was a crashed plane. When she swiveled her eyes she saw that a submarine had somehow beached itself and then crashed. Lorna furrowed her brow. This seemed familiar, like it was from a story she'd heard a long time ago but couldn't remember.

She turned to Kurt. He was panting, looking exhausted from the numerous jumps he'd had to make.

"Know where this is?" she asked.

"Nien," he said.

"You shouldn't," said Sean, looking with a grim face over the scene, "You weren't here. A lot of us were though."

Lorna noticed the stilted way that he swallowed. The rest of them, with the exception of David, seemed ashen-faced as well. Even her father was looking away from the scene as though it were some nightmare. She was about to ask him what was happening when a bright light began to flood the area.

In the distance she saw tendrils of light began to crack through the sky. The entire ground began to shake as she got quickly to her feet. David stared at the light.

"It's coming too quickly," he said, "We have to find my father. **Now**."


	62. Chapter 62

"Something's wrong," Emma said, sitting straight up, "It's caught up to them too fast. It's going to get them soon."

"Can we get an exact time on that?" asked Doug.

"Not yet, but I know it's going to be soon," Emma said, "Not so reassuring."

Amanda saw Doug look down at the control board. The X-men were watching them warily but they had decided to stay out of the way for the time being. That was a mercy. It was bad enough having so many people in the room but they didn't need so many conflicting opinions.

"The way I see it-" he began.

A few feet from Amanda a red light came on and began beeping. Doug whipped his head and stared at it. Other lights were coming on now.

"What does that mean?" asked Ororo.

"The power's being drained," Doug said, "I don't understand, I diverted the power from the entire island! That's enough to keep it going for a year!"

"Obviously not," said Emma.

To her surprise Amanda thought she heard panic in Emma's voice. The telepath put both gloved hands to the sides of her headpiece and squinched her eyes shut.

"They're on a beach," she said, "I think it's in Cuba. Does anyone know what that means?"

"Yes, and it's not a good memory," said Moira, flinging the door open, "What's happening? We saw the power drain happening on the next floor up. It's driving the children up the wall."

She gave a cursory glance at the X-men before shoving her way through, coming to stand by Doug.

"Something's sapping the main core," he said.

Amanda heard a soft beeping. She turned her attention to the medical panel near her. David's heart rate had gone up exponentially. Even as she watched it was increasing erratically. At the same time she frowned. She only understood the rudimentary functions of medical machines, but she knew that it wasn't right.

"David's heart rate is increasing," she announced, "But everything else is stable."

"That's not right," Rahne said.

"Does anything about this situation smack of right?" asked Emma.

"Wait…wait..." Doug said, holding up a hand, "Rahne, can you pull up the stats on how much power's being transferred to David's sector?"

Rahne nodded and put in a few keystrokes. She blinked.

"It's twenty percent higher than the others and rising steadily," she said.

Emma slowly took her hands off the sides of her headset.

"It's in David and David is in the machine," she said, "It's diverting power from the machine to itself. That's why it's catching up so fast."

"We need to cut down on power," said Doug.

He grabbed a dial and began to turn it backwards. The levels of light began to decrease all around them.

"Did that help?" asked Doug.

"A little," said Rahne, "But not enough. It's still draining more. It's going to shut down the machine at this rate."

"That's the minimum we can use on this number of people," Doug said, frustrated, "I need to think about this…this I…I need more time. Do you have any idea about how much time we have?"

Emma bit her lip and Amanda saw her hands tremble.

"About a minute." 

* * *

><p>The winds buffeted Sean into the ground. It hurt, almost as much as it had hurt on the day. He'd felt them, even from his distance away. He'd been more concerned with Angel at the time but this wasn't exactly good either. He struggled to stay on his feet as they made their way across the beach.<p>

The winds were going on for longer than he knew they were supposed to though. He knew by this point Riptide had been knocked out. Somehow the Phoenix was manipulating the memory. Although he knew it was a bad idea he risked a glance at the bright light on the horizon. It was getting brighter and, to his dismay, closer.

Each step was a struggle as they went towards the battered plane. Mystique had remembered that Charles had been there with her and Moira during this time. Originally they had started by heading towards the Blackbird but the scenes were moving too quickly. He'd already seen himself and Alex crash into the beach and defeat Angel. Now though the tendrils were getting closer and he had no desire to get burned or worse by them.

He wished that Kurt had the strength to simply teleport them to where they needed to be. It had already been made clear that he couldn't though. He'd used it up having to make so many trips and jump such a large distance. Sean was trying to be grateful for what he had though. It wasn't the easiest thing.

With great difficulty he made a gesture to his team mates. They all covered their ears as fully as they could manage. Taking a deep breath he screamed into the air. The winds dispersed slightly and they tried to move forwards more. Sean screamed again, his sonic manipulation cutting a path through the wind. They had been doing this for some time with some success.

With the approaching light he knew they were running out of time. Something else was happening as well, something that confused him. The beach was starting to fade from focus. At first he'd thought it was simply the effort of keeping his eyes open in the stinging wind. However, it was too blurry to be just that.

The winds increased in strength. They started to push him towards the shore. With a deep breath he screamed again. This reduced the winds to the level that they had been before but he had to keep screaming. When he paused for breath he lost another few valuable inches. All the while the light was getting closer. He screamed again, knowing that it was doing less and less good. 

* * *

><p>"If we cut the power to one of the people then we can cut down on the power the machine's using," said Doug, "Then we can turn down the overall power. After that I'll keep teh levels in flux. The Phoenix will still be sucking power but it won't have enough to draw from and the fluctuation should confuse it."<p>

"Should?" asked Ororo.

"I'm working in uncharted territory right now," he snapped.

Moira bit her lip and tried to think. They would have to forcefully remove someone from Cerebro Mark II. It wouldn't harm them. At most it would give them a bad migraine. However, they would lose all of the information that that person contained. They had to cut people with as little information as possible.

"Who are we supposed to cut?" demanded Rahne.

"You could try Scott," suggested Emma, "He doesn't have memory of a lot of the earlier happenings."

"He's the only one from the current wave of X-men in there," Ororo interjected, "The Professor's life didn't stop in the seventies."

Emma glared at Ororo. Moira tried to ignore it and concentrate. She was tempted to cut Kurt, but Kurt knew too much of what had been happening on Muir Island in recent times. Hank had been away from the island to work as a politician for too long and Sean was away a good deal of the time working for Interpol. He also knew David too well to be taken out, knew him as an equal instead of a child who had grown to adulthood.

Who else? Alex, who had been Charles' right hand for so long? Charles' sister who shared his childhood? Erik, his enemy and best friend? How about the members of the X-Force who had been there almost since the beginning? All of them had been selected because of their acute knowledge of events. They couldn't afford to lose any of them, not really. Moira didn't know who to pick.

Biting her lip she said;

"Cut Lorna."

Doug stared at her.

"But Lorna-" he started.

"-was not there until three years after the X-men began," said Moira firmly, "She's the one with the least unique memories. If we keep Alex he should compensate."

"But-" Doug started again.

"Do it!" 

* * *

><p>Erik hadn't wanted Lorna to see this. He knew that she had always had a difficult time wrapping her head around the concept of him as a so-called 'villain'. She had somehow managed to keep the image of him as her father up while knowing that he was a dangerous terrorist. Ever since that day that they had parted ways he had tried his hardest to ensure that they would never cross paths as enemies, that she would never see him exactly as he was.<p>

Now though she was being confronted with the evidence of what he truly was. He watched with dismay. A younger Charles was looking hopelessly around them, so close and yet so far. The light was getting closer and the winds stronger despite Sean's screams. His daughter was getting a front row seat to him stopping hundreds of missiles aimed at them, and then turning them around so they could slaughter thousands.

Even above the winds he could hear Charles' plaintive plea;

"Erik, you said yourself we're the better men. This is the time to prove it."

When there was no response he could see Charles becoming more desperate, and he knew Lorna could too.

"There are thousands of men on those ships! Good, honest, innocent men!" Charles shouted, "They're just following orders."

After all those years the words still stuck in his mind, as had his response.

"I've been at the mercy of men just following orders. Never again."

The missiles were launched, his face a mask of determination. Erik glanced back at Lorna. He saw her helpless confused expression, like she was a seventeen year old girl being told who her father really was again. She stared at him with that expression before she faded away into the background. 

* * *

><p>In the control room Moira saw Lorna's eyes open. She gasped and tore the headset off her head, breathing hard.<p>

"I didn't want to see that…" she whispered, "I didn't want to see that…I didn't want to...oh God…"

"What's up with her?" asked Logan.

"Oh don't mind her. She just saw daddy do something she didn't want to see," Emma said absently.

"Her heart rate is slowing abnormally," Amanda said, tapping the screen next to her.

"Get a call out to Maeve, tell her to come up her with some of the emergency adrenaline from the emergency first aide kit in the hall," said Moira, "And tell Carly to get some defibrillators from the hospital wing. It shouldn't get that bad, but it looks like we're going to have to plan ahead now."

Rahne hurried to the telephone on the wall as Doug looked down at the power levels.

"David's absorbing less power, but it's still too much," said Doug, "We need to pull someone else."

"Sean," Moira said, her face set.

She had thought about it. Scott and Kurt needed to stay, if only for a little longer. The next person pulled would have to be a member of the first class.

"No," Emma said, "He's helping too much. They're fighting strong winds and he's blazing a path for them with his screams."

Moira formed a fist.

"God," she murmured, "Hank then."

It wasn't a name she wanted to say but it was forced from her lips. He had been there from almost the moment they had started the team. He'd been the first mutant outside of Erik, Charles, and Mystique, who'd been recruited. If anything she would have wanted to keep him in until the last possible moment.

However, most of his memories of that time could be duplicated by Mystique. Tough decisions had to be made, and they had to be made by her.

"Cutting Hank off," said Doug. 

* * *

><p>"What's going on?" shouted Mystique as Hank disappeared.<p>

"The control room's doing it!" David shouted back, "I think they're buying us time!"

He looked back at the rapid advance of the light. It had started at the horizon but was now only a few feet from the shore. Before his eyes the advance of the Phoenix's power slowed some, which was just enough. He was close enough to make out the color of his father's eyes after all, and not from memory.

"One more push!" he shouted.

David covered his ears tightly. Sean screamed again, his face turning red and the veins on the side of his neck sticking out. The winds parted around them even as David fought a slight wave of nausea. The slight lull was just enough for David to reach his father, lying on the ground and bleeding. With clenched teeth he moved past Erik and touched his father's temple.

The world whirled around and suddenly they were all together again. Sean rubbed his throat, swallowing and coughing from his hoarseness. Both he and Kurt looked exhausted. He wondered how much longer they could keep it up. David himself wanted to go and lie down somewhere, but there was still so much to go through.

Kurt moved and put his hand on David's shoulder. David took it gratefully and closed his eyes. He was strong enough. He had to be.


	63. Chapter 63

"They've moved onto the next memory," Emma said, "They made it out."

Moira sighed and leaned against the control panel.

"David's still acting like an unplugged kitchen sink with the power though," said Doug, "We're going to have to cut off someone else soon, probably one per memory."

"Sean, unless he's necessary to fighting the memory," Moira sighed, "We can only hope that they make it through before we run out of people."

"He's still draining it too fast," Doug repeated, "We're going to need to figure something else out too."

She rubbed her forehead and looked into the control room. Maeve had given Lorna a shot of adrenaline but she still looked far away. Moira recalled Emma's words. If Lorna had been on the beach then she would have seen her father attempt to murder thousands and betray his friend. She couldn't imagine what must be going through her head.

In any case she had been removed to the second level. Her children were waiting for her there and she knew that Luna would be relieved to have something to take her mind off things. The same was true for her children. When she had left her Luna had been clutching her ankles and rocking back and forth. Her brothers had stayed close to her, trying to calm her down. The tension in the air was obviously affecting her.

Carly had come with the defibrillators. They hadn't been necessary since the adrenaline had appeared to do its job. She'd stayed to help Hank out though. He appeared to be disoriented, even with the shot of adrenaline. Again Moira had to wonder what exactly it was that he was feeling. The beach on Cuba couldn't be his favorite memory. There was too much baggage to contend with.

Out of the corner of the eye she took in the X-men. Her mind briefly brought up their dossiers. It had been such a long time ago that she had concerned herself with the team at Westchester. Too much had been happening with the X-Force. However, something did stand out in her mind.

Straightening her back she turned to look at them, trying to be friendly but keep her commanding air.

"I'm Dr. Moira Xavier," she said, "I don't believe that I've met all of you."

She knew that they recognized her, or most of them did. Ororo had spent summers at Muir Island. The rest of the X-men had been sitting in the same row as her during Charles' funeral. She'd been separated from them by Hank and as such hadn't been introduced. They'd probably been wondering what this strange woman was doing in the front row with them. Well, now they knew.

The only one that she had no background with was Logan. Even so she could do this. She was performing a million other impossible things that day that this seemed almost simple.

"Bobby Drake, Iceman," said one of the boys.

"Kitty Pryde, Shadowcat."

"Piotr Rasputin, Colossus."

"Rogue."

She nodded her head to each of them, trying to remain friendly and collected. They were all looking at her strangely. Most of them didn't know that the Professor had been married, hadn't even known of the existence of his son until David had spoken at the funeral. It had been for safety although it still made her sad.

Moira tried to commit their names to memory, knowing she would need to remember them later. Rogue's use of only one name was troubling but she decided not to comment on it. Many children at the Institute chose to only go by names that they had made up and it didn't mean they were criminals. It just meant that they felt like their old name was dead to them.

"Logan," snorted Logan, "Wolverine."

Again Moira kept a friendly expression although the strain was wearing on her.

"Now, I will say that Charles and I had planned to show you Muir Island sooner or later," she said, "It's a hospital facility as well as a school. Besides, you may be working with the X-Force one day. But you've already done that."

Her back straightened a little. Time for business.

"And I wish we could have met under better circumstances," she said, "but in our lives what happens happens. Rogue, can I have a word with you?"

The girl hesitated and then looked at Logan. He nodded at her. Moira took a mental note of that.

"Now then, you know what's happening, why we're doing this?" she asked her, "You have been told?"

"Ah have," Rogue said, her voice hesitating.

Moira nodded and tilted her head to Doug. He turned on the lights slightly.

"Now then," she said, "My son is the one in the middle. The…thing…inside him is draining the machine. It's hopping on his powers and using them against him."

Rogue nodded, still looking unsure.

"I know what your power is," said Moira, "If you could take some of his, weaken him a little, then we might stand a chance of giving him enough time to bring him home."

"She's not doing it."

Moira swallowed and tilted her head to Logan. He was standing against the wall by the machine door, his eyes narrowed.

"I know what you're worried about," said Moira, "And she's not going to be taking the Phoenix. She is instead going to drain some of the life force of my son, an idea that simply **thrills **me."

She nearly spat out her last words.

"But we don't have much of a choice right now. We're cutting people out at a high rate and he needs them around him," said Moira, "He needs to stop being able to drain power, or at least slowed."

Moira turned to Rogue.

"I'll admit, there is a risk to this, but I think there's a risk every time you use your power," she said, "And…you're an X-man aren't you?"

Rogue blinked at Moira. She could see an inward struggle in the girl. Rogue didn't like her powers; she remembered being told that this girl had actually accepted The Cure. Moira didn't know if she could blame her for that. Her power was very dangerous after all. It was probably cruel to ask her to use them so soon after what had happened.

Again though, there wasn't a choice. Rogue had joined the X-men, put on the uniform and fought with them. She knew the risks and she had decided to take them. It was all about putting your life to a higher order and she hoped the girl understood that. If she didn't then their back-up plan wasn't going to work at all.

The teenager swallowed and removed one of her gloves. She stared at the way her fingers fanned out before nodding.

"Ah am," she said, "Ah'll do it."

"Rogue-" started Bobby.

"Ah said ah'll do it," Rogue said sharply.

Moira pressed a button so the door to the machine room opened. Rogue went to the door and stopped. Logan was slightly in front of the door, giving her an even look. Something passed between them and Logan moved to the side. She walked around him and into the room, her ungloved hand trembling.

Slowly she approached David. Her hand stretched out and a few of her fingers brushed his temple. Immediately his heart rate shot up. 

* * *

><p>David let out a moan and dropped to his knees. Kurt grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him to his feet, but he could see that his cousin's legs had turned to jelly.<p>

"Oh God…" groaned David.

"What's happening?" asked Sean.

"I haf nein idea," Kurt said, lowering David to the ground.

"Feels like someone just took the marrow out of my bones," David murmured.

He put a hand to his cousin's forehead. It was burning up but it had been like that ever since the beach. Things were becoming more difficult and he was becoming more and more afraid for his cousin. He had never seen him quite so fragile, so sick. Anything he did seemed to require a herculean effort.

One of David's hands touched the side of his head. He winced with from both the pain and the effort.

"Anybody know who Rogue is?" he asked breathlessly.

"She's one of my students," Scott said, "She can drain other people's powers."

"So that explains this…" muttered David, "They're still trying to slow the Phoenix down…and unfortunately it's using my powers so, alright."

He looked around him.

"They're going to keep cutting people out like Lorna and Hank," he said, "Don't be surprised if someone phases out soon."

"That complicates things," said Alex dryly.

Other words hung in the air unsaid. This was much more dangerous than they had originally thought. Even David, who had warned them how quickly things could change, seemed to be worried. The Phoenix wasn't giving up without a fight. Besides, no one had calculated the emotional toll that going through these memories was going to have.

Kurt himself had been surprised to see Azazel on the beach. He had always secretly believed that Azazel had been someone unsavory before coming to Muir Island. It hadn't worried him too much, and it still didn't. He believed in the power of redemption and Azazel had never hurt anyone on the island. To see him in such close contact with a younger version of his mother was what was bothering him.

True, they hadn't been within the same space for more than a few seconds. Kurt wasn't stupid though. He'd seen a look in Azazel's eyes as he watched the man with the helmet turn into Mystique. It wasn't bitterness, though he had been defeated by Hank and was now laying on the ground. It was interest with a hint of something else.

Kurt had also seen his mother's expression at the scene. She had mentioned that his father was another member of the Brotherhood, hadn't she? If so, was it possible that Azazel, his teleportation teacher, was actually his father? Had Azazel known from their first meeting? If he had known then why hadn't he told Kurt? He would have welcomed him as his father, would have welcomed any family.

He wished he could try to puzzle out the ideas and conclusions his mind was coming to but there was no time. Taking a deep breath he looked around him at what appeared to be the grounds to a beautiful mansion. It looked familiar to him and it took him a minute to identify it as the school at Westchester.

"So what's going on here?" asked Alex, "The place looks different, less ivy."

"Yeah, it's also a lot quieter-" Sean stared.

He faded away before he could finish his sentence. Kurt jumped slightly but David waved it away.

"It's alright, it's alright," he said, trying to keep calm, "Does anyone know what's happening?"

Mystique hesitated.

"I think…I think…"

A young girl, seven or eight, ran past them. She had thick blonde hair and big blue eyes. She was laughing and looking around her, her eyes darting around. Mystique closed her eyes and turned away from her. A shudder ran through her body and Kurt thought he saw tears in his mother's eyes before she covered them with her hand.

"I'm going to find you!" the girl announced.

David sighed and looked at the little girl. He turned his head to Mystique.

"Is that you?" he asked.

Mystique nodded.

"Your father and I…we played hide and seek a lot," she said, "No powers…it always lasted longer when we did it that way."

Kurt couldn't help but feel sympathy. What was she feeling? Was she sad for innocence lost, innocence she could never hope to regain?

"Do you know where he's hiding?" asked David quietly.

"Yeah, I remember today," she said, waving a hand, "He's in the apple tree. He was very good at climbing it. Me…not so much."

Nodding they started to move towards the tree in question. When Kurt concentrated he could make out a shape in the tree, trying to climb quietly higher. His uncle had been a small child. He was about to reach the tree when a burst of light came from his right. A tendril of light wrapped around his leg, burning him through the cloth of his uniform.

Kurt yelled and saw Mystique and David whip around. His cousin abandoned his approach to the tree and grabbed him by his arm. He pulled him away, sending the two of them careening to the ground. Although dazed Kurt concentrated and teleported next to the tree. From where they were he managed to grab the ankle of the child his uncle had once been.

As the colors began to blur he hissed with pain. David hobbled over to him and grabbed his arm, supporting him as he had supported him once.

"For an injury zat ist not real, zis does hurt," Kurt said, giving a weak laugh.

His cousin looked at him worriedly but said nothing.

"Yeah," he said, putting a hand to his head and wincing, "Yeah..."


	64. Chapter 64

"Who are we cutting now?" asked Rahne.

Moira bit her lip. It was raw from all the other times she'd bitten it over the past twenty minutes. She couldn't believe that such a small amount of time had passed. So much had happened. Taking a deep breath she allowed herself to sink down into a spare chair. After a little more thought she said;

"Raven."

Rahne and Ororo looked at each other.

"Who?" asked Rahne.

Feeling irritated Moira waved a hand.

"Mystique," she said, rubbing her temples to ward off a headache, "Mystique. That's her name now."

She could tell that Rahne was looking at her nervously but she had the tact not to say anything. Rahne had learned that well from Rose.

"Are they in the next memory now?" asked Doug.

"Yes," Emma said.

Next to her Doug flipped a few switches. The power levels for Mystique dropped drastically. A few seconds later she saw Mystique sit up and take off her headset, rubbing her forehead. Moira didn't envy the headache she had, although she suspected that it was similar to the one she had at the moment.

Carly came out from a side door with the shot of adrenaline that they had given Lorna, Hank, and Sean. Even with the adrenaline they were still resting in the other room. At first Mystique waved her off but Carly remained insistent. Finally she allowed her to slip the needle under her skin.

Rogue was with the awakened members of the X-Force as well. Once she had finished taking some of David's powers she looked worse off for it. She had been shivering and looked like she was about to be ill. Logan had gone in after her, helping her out of the room. Moira had a feeling she wouldn't be able to ask her to repeat her power.

The door opened. Moira sent a tired glance that way as TJ scuttled in.

"You're supposed to be in the other room," Moira admonished half-heartedly.

TJ tilted her chin.

"Luna's with her mom, I wanna be with mine."

Without another word she sat down next to Amanda, her tail curling around her. Piotr's eyebrows shot up.

"She yours?" he asked.

"Not by blood," laughed Amanda, ruffling TJ's beaded braids.

From her seat Emma glanced over at Amanda. Moira didn't see her normal condescension there though. Instead she looked like she was being reminded of something , a sense of déjà vu. Emma shook her head before turning back to the control panel. Perhaps David had been right about her after all; there was more to her than she'd thought.

TJ picked up a wire and began stripping it of its plastic coatings. Logan came in, shaking his head.

"Rogue's resting now," he said.

"Is she okay?" asked Bobby.

"The woman with the red hair says so," Logan said, sinking into a chair.

He sighed before noticing TJ.

"She related to the elf?" asked Logan.

"The elf?" Amanda asked.

"Kurt or Nightcrawler, whatever he calls himself," said Logan.

Amanda made a face.

"I see, elf because of the ears. Very funny. And again no, not by blood," Amanda said, "She decides who she is and isn't related to."

"Yes I do," declared TJ before biting a wire in half.

Logan gave an incredulous look before going back to watching the proceedings.

"Hey, hyper," he said.

Doug gritted his teeth.

"Cypher," he corrected.

"Whatever," Logan said, "Is that supposed to be like that?"

Frowning Doug checked the power levels.

"Emma," he said, "David's drawing more power again. He just got drained, he shouldn't be doing that. Can you tell us what it's up to?"

"Give me a minute," Emma said, closing her eyes.

* * *

><p>When they fell into the next memory the first one to notice Mystique was missing was Alex. David had noted that Alex had been watching Erik and Mystique distrustfully the entire way. It was useful in this respect although when Alex asked where she had gone it wasn't out of concern for her well-being and it showed.<p>

He sighed and put two fingers to his forehead.

"She was pulled," he said, "They have to do it more often now."

David looked around at the entryway as people started to fill it, their forms shadowy at first but rapidly becoming more solid.

"So what are we doing here?" he asked.

Erik winced as Lorna's form appeared, wringing her hands amidst the carnage and looking scared.

"Yes," said the younger version of Lorna, "What about it?"

"Now is not the time-" Erik started.

"You didn't know your father was Magneto?" Alex said, "He didn't tell you? Because I'd say that that's pretty damn important."

With a jolt David realized what the memory was. He'd heard about this from Sean a long time ago as he'd tried to explain about Lorna's father. They had to get out of there; he didn't like the expression on Alex's face. He started to move towards his father when he was brought to his knees by an earth shattering;

_The bastard's been tricking her, trying to take her away! Hell no!_

He looked around them, discovering that the rest of his dwindling group were on their knees as well.

"What was that?" he managed.

"What I was...thinking when this happened," Alex said, "We've never been able to hear thoughts before, why now?"

"It's still fighting us. I think it can only use what's in the memory," David said, "We have to work through it."

A foot away Lorna laughed shakily and shook her head.

"This is all a really good joke," she said, "A really good joke. You've all done a great job acting, okay? But now it's over and it isn't funny anymore."

She grinned the grin of someone who was trying to deny that everything around her was happening. Everyone stared at her like she'd gone insane. Erik looked uncomfortable and David couldn't blame him. David began to get to his feet but had to cover his ears as another thought assaulted him.

_Is she okay?_

"It's not funny anymore," she said, "Dad, stop. Alex and Sean, they like their jokes and I don't know what's gotten into the Professor. He doesn't do these things but I'm sure something happened, they talked him into it somehow. But you wouldn't lie to me like this. I know it. So just say that you did it as a joke and end it. I won't hold it against anyone."

He didn't say anything, just stared at her helplessly. David began inching forward, propelling himself by his fingertips.

"Dad?" she whispered.

Slowly she brought her hands up to her temples. She looked at them all. Their expressions ranged from shock to pity. Erik stood looking at her with regret. David could see that his face was a similar mask now. All he could see on Alex's face was anger, again in both incarnations.

_Oh my God, she's not okay._

"No," Lorna said softly.

All around her metal objects began to rattle and shake. She shut her eyes, the hands at her temples becoming fists. A metal vase struck David in the back. Another went for Erik who deflected it. He kept the metal objects that were beginning to rattle and fly about away from them, though they were still far from their target.

"Lorna, calm your mind," his father cautioned.

The rattling became louder.

"No," she repeated, "No…no…"

_Lorna!_

Metal crunched inwards all around her. David was gritting his teeth in pain. Because of his skin's texture Kurt was making better progress. He was living up to his codename and crawling forward.

"Lorna," Erik said, reaching for her.

_Don't you touch her you filthy-!_

"NO!" she screamed.

She opened her eyes and jerked herself away from him. Her hair whipped around her and, removing her hands, she ran for the front door. The hinges were metal and they swung away from her, wood breaking in the process. Once she was outside she continued running as fast as she could.

"Lorna!" Erik yelled.

"Lorna!" called Alex.

_Don't chase after her, don't go near her! What right have you? She's not yours, she's mine! Don't you dare take anything else you sonuvabitch!_

Even as David braced himself against the thought the wall ripped open. A tendril of light shot out and grabbed Kurt's leg again, making him scream. This time though several more tendrils shot out and wrapped around his limbs. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. David got up and stumbled towards him as Kurt tried to teleport away. He would never forget the expression on his cousin's face as he realized that he couldn't.

* * *

><p>"Kurt's heart rate's tripled!" Amanda yelled, "His breathing's erratic and-"<p>

"Shit," Doug breathed.

Scared TJ looked at the man she considered her father. Burns were appearing on his arms and legs. He was thrashing about in his seat, his tail cutting the air.

"Astral wounds aren't supposed to be physical," Moira said.

"The Phoenix surprises yet again," Emma said, "You need to cut him if you want him to live, and fast. It's going for him."

Doug flipped the power switches frantically. TJ allowed herself to breathe again. Her father was going to be okay.

"It's not shutting down!"

TJ felt the breath clog her throat. When she opened her father was still thrashing and new burns were appearing.

"I shut down all the switches but he keeps getting the power!" Doug said.

"It's diverting the power," Emma said, "It **wants **to kill him."

"It can't!" TJ cried out.

Amanda grabbed her and held her close. Tears dropped from her eyes onto TJ's face. As though it were far away she saw Doug claw at a panel.

"I need a screw driver," he said, "I need something, I can't-"

Metal claws ripped through Logan's hand before he plunged it into the panel. He dragged it around the metal, emitting a high pitched screech into the air. TJ covered her ears as Logan wrenched it open. Doug nodded at him before peering in. He took a flashlight from his belt and began to look before shaking his head, his face contorted.

"I can't get to the green wires," he said, "They're too far away…the corridor is too small…I can't cut them…I can't manually destroy the power flow…"

"You're running out of time," Emma said.

"Shut down the machine," Moira said, "That should work."

"If we do that then everyone gets pulled," Rahne answered, twisting several dials, "And it'll know; this was our one chance!"

"Shut it down," Moira said, her eyes closed tightly.

"But David and the Professor-"

"I know!" Moira screamed, "But David and Charles won't want life if it means losing Kurt. We need…we need…"

Tears began to force their way from beneath her eyelids. TJ watched her reach for a large switch.

"No!" she cried, "I know!"

"What?" asked Rahne.

"Give me a minute!" TJ yelled, scrambling out of Amanda's arms.

Without another word she threw herself onto Logan's shoulder. Using him as a kick off point she dived into the panel Doug had opened. She wriggled through, using the pads on her fingers to propel herself forward. Although she couldn't see it she knew that her bioluminescent eyes were glowing, letting her see through the small dark space. Even so it was difficult to wriggle through all the criss-crossing wires. They were tangling in her braids, pulling them and hurting her.

People's lives depended on this though, that much she understood. People wondered sometimes why David had been her champion in her fantasies, the fantasies that part of her still believed. Some thought that it was because of the swords he fenced with. That wasn't it at all though.

He'd found her, broken and bleeding in the woods all alone. David had been kind, calmed her down. He'd been there when her father had come back to finish the job. For a moment she'd been so scared, not knowing what was going on and only knowing pain was coming. Then David had put a hand to his temple and sent him away. Then she'd known that she was safe.

He was Kurt's cousin, something she remembered as she pushed through the corridor. Kurt cared for him and so did she. If Kurt was her father, another person she was desperate to protect, then that made David family too. They were related to her, she knew that deep inside. If Kurt was saved by thier way then David would die. And he woudl be sad and everyone would, and so would she. If her way worked she coudl save tehm both.

The metal corridor got smaller, squishing against her and scraping her. At long last she reached the green wires. Without another thought she took them in her teeth and bit through them. She received a slight electric shock that made her cry out. It didn't stop her from grabbing another few wires and biting through them.

Metal pieces stuck in between her teeth. It hurt so much but she couldn't bring herself to stop. She couldn't.

* * *

><p><em>How could you do this to her?<em>

The thought forced him to his knees again but David couldn't give up. He pulled at Kurt with his telekinesis, but he knew it was too late. The Phoenix was too strong and now he was going to lose his cousin. Tears were forming in his eyes as he continued to pull uselessly. No, it wasn't supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to save his father, not send his closest friend to his death.

Alex had stumbled ot his feet and was supporting him for the little good that that did. The room was flickering around them and he became afraid, afraid for the fact that Kurt hadn't been pulled. Emma knew what was happening, he knew that she'd said something. So why, why weren't they saving him? Why was he going to die?

Then a miracle happened. Kurt vanished from between the tendrils of light. David cried out in relief and the light brightened in anger. A tendril shot out for him but he dodged it and went for his father. As he gripped his father's shoulder a sense of relief came over him. At least Kurt was well out of it.

* * *

><p>When the last green wire had been chewed through TJ began to pull herself backwards with her feet, her tail providing the extra leverage. It was a slow, painful thing. She realized, as she crawled backwards, that a bead had been ripped from her hair unbraiding some of it. It must have happened towards the beginning; she hadn't felt it when it happened.<p>

A few seconds later she felt someone grab her by her feet and pull her through. Amanda held her tightly in her arms, moving quickly out of the room and jostling her. TJ's head felt light from the shocks and the effort it had taken to get to the wires and back. Her teeth ached and felt like they were clogged. She coughed and dislodged a piece of wire, spitting it onto the ground.

"Did it work?" she whispered, dazed.

Her mother sank to her knees and sat her down on the ground. TJ looked and saw Kurt there, his golden eyes open as Maeve administered morphine. Amanda cradled his head in her lap, whispering things as tears trailed down her face. TJ scooted forward silently and took one of his hands in hers. He turned his head towards her slightly.

"Gute arbeit miene totcher," he whispered.

Although TJ didn't fully understand the words they filled her with warmth. She started crying then, gripping his hand closer and rocking on her heels as the light headed feeling grew stronger. Before the darkness gripped her she saw him smiling at her.


	65. Chapter 65

"If you could have been a little less hostile in that last memory than I'm sure that much of this unpleasantness could have been avoided," Erik snapped.

Scott looked at his brother. Alex had tensed up and his breathing had become labored. The memories were taking longer and longer to assert themselves and he was dreading that time spent in between. Too much could be said. From the look on David's face he could tell that he shared his sentiments.

"Yeah, sorry aobut that. I guess I was a little upset," Alex said, "The bastard who ruined everything had come back and decided no, there was more he could destroy."

"I destroyed nothing."

"Oh, nothing he says," snapped Alex.

"If we could please focus-" David started.

"You didn't see her!" Alex shouted, "You weren't there for the weeks when she was an emotional wreck because daddy told her to change who she was to follow him, told her to be someone else! He'd demanded it but had never offered to change for her because apparently she didn't mean enough! You weren't there for the tears, for the times where she tried to hide that anything was wrong at all!"

Alex began to pant, his fists clenched.

"You hurt her and you never tried to fix the damage," he said, "She wasn't worth it to you and-"

Whatever else he wanted to say was cut off as he disappeared. Erik turned away and David gave a nervous glance at Scott. Scott nodded his head in turn and took a deep breath. Colors from the memory began to appear as it asserted itself. A building was built around them, as well as a large glass window. Looking out it Scott saw white chairs wrapped in green bows with sunflowers.

A white trellis stood in front of the chairs, sunflowers snaking up the side. Men and women dressed formally milled around, some had already taken thier seats. Scott recognized the members of his X-men group among the guests. In the front row he saw a six year old David with his mother.

"Oh…this is…" started Scott.

"Yes," David said, "But I never went inside the building."

"It's mine," Scott said.

"Why, what is it?" Erik asked.

Scott tilted his head.

"My brother's wedding."

As if to emphasize his words Sean and Hank ran down the stairs, tapping their watches. A teenaged Scott came down the staircase with Jean on his arm. She was laughing at something and kissed him on the cheek.

Scott felt something in his chest tighten. Then, suddenly, he thought of Emma. He closed his eyes but Emma's face was just behind his eyelids.

"_Let's face it; I'll never be good enough for you. And you'll never be bad enough for me. And that's just the way it is."_

He shook his head as Jean opened the door and left. Scott looked over at Erik who was staring outside of the window with a peculiar look on his face. If Scott didn't know better he would have said that he looked sad.

"Scott," Alex said, coming down the stairs, "You have the rings right? The special ones? Engraved?"

He appeared panicked. Scott watched his younger self pat his tux pocket reassuringly.

"Don't worry about it," he said, "And don't worry about anything else. It's all taken care of."

Alex swallowed and nodded. Hank laughed and hit him on the back.

"You look like you need some air," he said.

"I think I do," said Alex, "I'll be back in two."

Still looking nervous he began to head for the back door. Then the memory stopped. All of the members froze in place, Alex halfway to the door. David tried to move forward but couldn't. He banged his hand against an invisible wall in frustration.

"It's messing with the memories," David hissed, "Can you remember what happened next Scott? Maybe that will jump start it…"

Scott closed his eyes in concentration. This sort of thing stuck in your mind.

"What me to come with you?" asked Scott's younger self.

Alex swallowed again and nodded. The back door opened and they went out. Scott motioned for them to follow. David gave a cautious look around before he stepped forward. The Phoenix was bound to show up soon; it had happened too many times to doubt. Erik followed David closely. Scott scanned the background, still trying to catch a glimmer of light. When he didn't see any he began to move forward, still remembering.

On the back porch Alex ran a hand through his hair.

"I want it to be perfect for her Scott," said Alex, "She deserves perfect."

"Everything's gonna be fine."

"Yeah, well, I can't help it," Alex sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He stepped sideways. From where they were they could see the area that had been set-up for the wedding but were still some distance away. Another small building was located on the other side. Rahne was there along with Clarice, wearing green bridesmaids gowns. Rahne waved to Scott and he waved back.

Next to him Alex sighed.

"I'm gonna go back in now, get ready," he said.

Alex started back, Scott in tow. Charles came around the corner then, as Scott remembered, to give his congratulations. Alex stopped to speak to him. David and Erik moved forward. Scott took a step to follow them when the ground cracked beneath him and light shown out. He jumped backwards and the light shot up into the sky, separating him from the others. The memory screeched to a halt in front of him and he saw David and Erik turn around.

Scott touched his goggles and sent a blast towards the light. It absorbed it and surged forwards towards him.

* * *

><p>Megan saw Emma go rigid.<p>

"It's separated Scott from the rest," she said, "He's got the information they need, it's surrounding him and…the others can't reach him."

Doug flipped the switches going to Scott. Like with Kurt nothing happened. Megan looked back at the panel that TJ had gone through.

"Get TJ back here," she said, "We can cut the wires that way."

"She's downstairs in the hospital wing," Moira said.

"I can teleport," Megan said, feeling panicked.

"She's unconscious! It's going to take a lot of electricity to wake her up and we might kill her if we do that," Moira said, "She's already been exposed too much."

"When will she wake up naturally?" asked Ororo.

"Half an hour maximum," Moira replied.

"That's not quick enough!" Emma snapped.

Emma's breathing was becoming erratic. Anyone other than Megan would have pegged it to strain. Megan knew better. It was concern; the man she loved was in mortal peril.

"It's the wrong panel too," said Doug, "Scott's on the other side, Logan, open that one. I don't know if we can reach it but…"

"We can do a machine shut down," suggested Rahne tentatively, "Flip the switches and-"

"No time!" Emma cried.

Megan took a deep breath. She watched, a sudden feeling of horror coming over her, as Emma's panicked look suddenly became calm.

"No," Megan said, "No, don't-"

Emma took Megan's face in her hands.

_Don't you worry Megan, it's going to be alright, _she thought, _Megan, my precious precious daughter. _

"No!" Megan said.

One of Emma's hands left Megan's face and turned up the power dial to the control room. She jammed the headset harder on her head and slumped forwards.

_It's going to be alright._

* * *

><p>A blast of light shot at Scott. He rolled, narrowly avoiding it. David was shouting to him, trying to find a way through. He knew it was useless though. The area in which he could run was narrowing quickly and soon he'd have nowhere to go. A tendril grabbed his leg, burning him and forcing him to the ground. He fell hard, hitting his head and making him see stars.<p>

A wave of light gathered, pulling together into the form of a phoenix. With a cry that made his ears rattle it plummeted towards him. Scott tried to push himself up but the tendril had burned his leg too badly for it to support his weight. He winced and put a hand to his goggles, knowing that it would do little good. If he was going to go out though, he was going to go out fighting like the X-man that he was.

White light shattered the space in front of him. A snow-white cape brushed his face. The screeching came to a halt as it was blasted to the side by the white light.

"Emma?" he breathed.

She turned around to him, her blue eyes earnest. Kneeling down she helped him to his feet, supporting him. Another wave of light came towards them and Emma closed her eyes. A diamond shield wrapped around them, deflecting the light. The Phoenix screamed again as she blasted a path through the light, dragging Scott with her.

Together they reached David and Erik. The memory began again; its participants turning a corner. David blinked at their arrival. Emma smiled at him.

"Don't feel too bad at being outclassed," she said, "You're incredibly weak at the moment. That Rogue has real potential."

Behind them the light began to surge towards them again. Emma looked over her shoulder at it.

"Doesn't give up, does it?" she asked.

"I'd say not," David replied, pausing at the corner of the house.

She stared at it.

"It's coming too fast, you're not going to be able to make it," Emma said, "Even if you started now then you wouldn't…"

"Then we'll just have to hurry," snapped Erik.

Emma ignored him.

"I can buy you some time," Emma said.

No.

"You can't, it'll kill you," Scott said, tightening his grip on her.

She smiled at him.

"I'm a telepath, it's different for me," she said, "I know what I'm doing. But…one thing first."

Emma pulled him closer into a kiss. It brought back memories, memories of love and of breaking barriers and of being free. She pulled away and he looked into her blue eyes.

"Emma, I-"

Behind them the Phoenix screamed again. Emma smiled softly.

"Go on Scott," she said.

She handed him to David who helped him around the doorway. Scott grabbed wall as Erik followed. David turned back to Emma.

"Thank you," he said.

"I'm doing this for Scott," Emma said, "Not for you."

"But thank you nonetheless."

David rounded the corner. The wedding party was taking thier place and Charles was in the front row with his family. With Scott gripping the chairs they made their way towards the beginning of the aisle. David made a motion towards them.

Wind started up and they were pushed out. David put a hand to his temple and two metal folding tables came on either side of them, shielding them from some of the wind. Painstakingly they inched forward. Finally he looked at Erik.

"I can run ahead and get them. You keep the tables in place," he said.

Without waiting for an answer he darted out, jumping over a row of charis.

"Think we should follow?" Scott asked.

"I think, as he said, he has it," said Erik, "If your blonde paramour can stay alive for long enough."

"What?" asked Scott.

"You don't see it?"

Erik shook his head. Erik snorted. Suddenly he realized what was going on, what everyone else understood. The only reason he hadn't was because he hadn't wanted to see it, hadn't wanted to know what was going to happen. It wasn't different for telepaths. He turned around and forced himself forwards. 

* * *

><p>Emma looked at the approaching Phoenix with a level of calmness she hadn't experienced for years. It was her death, she knew it. Holding it off probably meant dying fighting it. She hadn't really lied; it was somewhat different for telepaths. Not enough though. Death would still come if she died here, slower in her physical form, but she knew that it was going to happen.<p>

She stepped towards it , tilting her head back defiantly. A Phoenix formed out of the light, screeching at her.

"Oh shut up," she said.

Emma put her white-gloved hands to her temples. A blast of white light shot out, ripping a hole in the Phoenix. It reformed quickly though and let out another angry screech. A tendril shot out and she dodged it, her blonde hair in her face. She sent another psychic blast at it that was absorbed even faster than the first.

Two tendrils shot out and enveloped her. She felt the burning and turned her skin to diamond. The heat couldn't touch diamond, diamond was refined in heat. Emma gave a condescending smile to the Phoenix, letting it know that she couldn't be burned. It screeched, a noise she was becoming quite tired of.

A sharp pain pierced into her mind. Somehow it was getting past her diamond psychic defenses. She pushed back but it wedged open her mind and tore it open. Pain flooded her, too much to even scream as it sifted through her memories and scoffed at her. Everything was laid before her, every power play, every act. Piece by piece it destroyed the White Queen, laughing in triumph.

However, the Phoenix didn't know who it was dealing with. She was more than the White Queen. The Phoenix found that when it peeled away her outermost levels. Deep inside it found something that had defied everything to survive. It had endured and escaped unscathed from her father, Shaw, Magneto, and the cruel machinations of the Hellfire Club.

Deep within her was Emma Frost, a young woman with brown hair in a white dress made by her brother. This was the one who had raised Megan and loved Scott, not the White Queen. She had never been the façade when she had loved them. This Emma Frost was what had taken in Megan in in the first place and gambled so much with Scott. She had never believed in bullies and, in the end, that was what the Phoenix was.

The Phoenix was thrown from her and she stood before it, dressed as Cinderella with long brown hair. Her scars from the battle with Magneto showed through. To her surprise Emma realized that she was still beautiful with them, and not in the artificial way that she had so carefully cultivated all those years.

"Emma!"

She turned back and saw Scott at the corner of the house, trying to reach her. She diverted some of her energy to make a psychic shield for him, preventing him from coming to her. He pounded on it, still shouting her name.

Emma could see that David must have reached his father; the memory was already starting to fade. They would go; but she wasn't grouped like they were. She had come of her own volition. Still, they would be moving on. They were going to live because of her. Emma smiled at Scott, letting him know that it was worth it, he was worth it, that this was what she wanted.

The White Queen had been born because she couldn't save someone she loved. It was only fitting that she should die succeeding, and die as Emma Frost. That was more than she could have hoped for. It hurt her to know of the pain she would cause both Megan and Scott, but at least her death would be worth something.

Megan would see that there were things worth dying for, that she could be strong no matter what. She would be safe on Muir Island. Perhaps she would even become an X-man. Scott would see that she really was good, or at least good enough. Emma smiled at that thought; she had always been good enough.

As he started to fade she turned back into the Phoenix. It poured inside of her and she felt the pain again as it wedged itself deep within her. This time she turned to diamond, trapping it inside of her. She was going to take as much of its power as she could. Emma Frost didn't go down without a fight . Emma gave one last smile at Scott before cracks in her diamond skin formed. And though the diamond shattered, Emma Frost remained unbroken. 

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **Emma's protection of Scott against the Phoenix Force and the outcome of her actions was inspired by the ending scene of the first season of 'Wolverine and the X-Men.' It was incredibly sad and touching too; a truly transformative scene. _


	66. Chapter 66

The second Emma rolled her head back Megan had gone still. She clenched her fist and looked up at the X-men and X-Force members that were staring at her. Swallowing once she tried to act like she hadn't just screamed for Emma to stop, to act like she wasn't falling apart and crumbling inside. Emma had taught her well enough to know she couldn't look that way in front of strangers, and she'd given her the skill to pull it off.

"She's gone in," Megan said.

"Will that help?" asked Bobby.

Megan shrugged.

"I don't know…" she said, "She never fully explained how the astral plane works to me. I think she'll be very powerful there, she's a telepath in a mind. But I don't know if…what she's planning on doing."

She swallowed the doubt that was building in her throat. Moira went into the control room and removed one of the heart monitors from the room, clipping it onto Emma's finger. A steady beeping started up and Moira sighed. She sat down and closed her eyes, resting her hands around her face.

"At least we'll know," said Moira, "I gave all the others the courtesy of monitoring, I might as well give it to her."

Megan nodded but deep down inside she already knew. The look Emma had given her before she'd turned the power up said it all. She kenw she was going to die. When Emma slumped in her chair a few minutes later it came as no real surprise. The way the heart monitor let out a shrill, steady beep wasn't a surprise either. It didn't make it any easier to hear though, no easier to know what was happening.

Despite herself Megan cried out, trying to wrench the headset off Emma's head. They had to get her out of it, had to separate her from what was killing her. When that didn't work she grabbed her mother's arm and teleported a few feet away. The two of them landed on the floor with Megan bearing the brunt of the fall. Her head banged into the metal floor so she had a pain in her head to match the one in her chest.

When she righted herself she saw that Emma's eyes were closed and her breathing shallow. With each breath the rise and fall of her chest became a little more faint. Megan felt like screaming, her grip on Emma's arm increasing. She still had the presence of mind to get out of the way when Moira knelt beside her and took her pulse with her two fingers.

"Megan," she said, "I need you to go into the other room and get the defibrillators right away, do you hear me?"

She nodded, though she was reluctant to leave Emma with strangers even if it was only for a minute. Concentrating she teleported into the room and grabbed the defibrillators. When she teleported back Moira had begun to do chest compressions. She stopped when she saw the defibrillators and grabbed them out of Megan's hands.

"Clear a space," she commanded.

Megan took a few steps backwards so that her back pressed up against the wall. She clutched her hands and bit her lip so that blood trickled down her chin. Ororo had knelt to help. Somehow, even with all the knowing, the whole scene seemed strangely surreal. This couldn't be happening. Emma was a pillar of strength, a perfect diamond. Diamonds didn't chip and they didn't shatter. You couldn't break a diamond.

Pushing back her sleeves Moira started the defibrillators. Ororo checked the charge before turning to Moira.

"Clear," she said.

Moira pressed them down and Emma's body shuddered. Desperately she wished she could somehow save Emma like Emma had continuously saved her. There was nothing Megan could do though. She could only wait with baited breath and look at Ororo, who shook her head before saying;

"Clear."

Again Moira pushed the defibrillators. It was all Megan to do not to cry. These people didn't have permission to see her cry. If she could keep from crying because of her broken ribs in front of doctors when she was a child then she could certainly keep from it now. Somehow it was harder this time though.

At least that time she had been safe in a way. Her ribs had hurt and she'd felt like she was back at her father's house. However, Megan had known that Emma was there, that Emma had protected her and would continue to do so. She knew what the future held. Now, when she looked at it, all she saw was a dark expanse where her path had once stretched. There was nothing for her anymore.

She watched the line move flat across it without sight of movement. Megan closed her eyes and hugged herself tightly, nearly bent double. Somehow she had to block that image and the noise it was making from her; she couldn't bear to see its undeniability, confirming that her mother wasn't with them.

"Clear."

She remembered Emma taking her in and protecting her from her sister. Every life lesson that had helped her survive had come from Emma. She had been her family when her own family had rejected her and left her to die. How could she lose her now after everything?

In her mind's eye she could see Emma reading her a bedtime story, hugging her in her arms and pointing at the pictures. She remembered being taught how to fight and Emma showing her how to apply make-up. Megan could still feel the pride that had welled inside her when Emma gave her an outfit to wear for her first official Hellfire event; a flattering body suit in silver and white.

Those were her colors. Megan had always wanted to wear them. She'd only been allowed to once when she was thirteen and Emma had shown her an old-fashioned lace and ribbon princess dress. The white silk had faded with age, turning an almost cream color. They had been playing dress-up and Emma had allowed Megan to wear it. She'd stared at her with a fond but sad smile. It was only then that Megan had realized that she had just let Megan see a piece of her soul, even if she would never fully understand it.

"Clear."

A sob threatened and Megan swallowed it. She had to be strong now, strong like Emma had always taught her to be.

"Clear."

Feeling almost faint Megan opened her eyes a crack. The defibrillators were pressed against her mother again, sending another jolt through her. The line on the heart monitor leapt up slightly, a small break in the flat expanse. Megan's heart stuttered as she watched several more breaks follow it.

Moira threw the defibrillators aside and checked her pulse.

"She needs to get downstairs. She's alive but just barely," said Moira, "Her chances have just gone from none to slim. The staff down there should be able to-"

"Where's the room?" Megan asked, kneeling beside Emma.

"Down a flight of stairs and seven doors on the left," replied Moira.

Megan nodded and gathered Emma in her arms. That was all she needed. 

* * *

><p>Scott gasped and slumped to the ground in the darkness. Tears trickled out from beneath his visor and he pounded the ground. David got to his knees next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. No words needed to pass between the two men. They both knew what Emma had done and who she had done it for. They both also knew what she had meant to Scott. He had lost her, just like he had lost Jean.<p>

However, David knew that in many ways this was worse. For one Scott had never seen Jean die, not really. Not even the first time had he seen her; no one had. The waves had been too strong. This death was the complete antithesis of that. He'd seen Emma die clearly, and with a smile on her lips to let him know that she was content with the outcome.

Jean knew that Scott loved her and that she was saving many people with her sacrifice. Emma had done it solely for Scott, not for anyone else. She believed he was enough to risk it all for. She had also done it without knowing how much he loved her, making the decision on her own terms. David knew that she had only come completely into his mind because Scott had been directly threatened.

David had been inside Scott's head for a few seconds to see exactly what had happened. He didn't dare look further. There were probably a plethora of what-ifs, a score of regrets and losses. It would have to remain unsaid between them; Erik was there. Scott had learned enough at his brother's side to ever trust him, had fought with him too many times. Though he was Scott's family Scott still loathed him. The only reason he let him see his current outpouring of emotions was because he couldn't control them.

Around them a snowy field began to form. A few flakes fell down onto his shoulders. David brushed them off and looked around. He recognized it as the grounds of the school at Westchester. So much of their lives had happened there, even his life, that he wasn't surprised at their arrival there.

Slowly he began to help Scott up. David could only feel pity for him; he was going through so much and now he'd lost the woman he loved. It was very likely that he would be removed by the control room now in favor of keeping Erik. David hoped so. He was in no condition to keep fighting.

"Bye Ms. MacTaggert!"

David looked around and saw his mother standing in the doorway. She was younger though, younger than he ever remembered her. She appeared to be in her twenties, although she was standing slightly skewed as though putting all her weight on one foot. His mother had never done that.

He remembered that she had had her ankle broken once. That had been far back in the beginning though, so this memory had been before he'd been born, he was sure of it. It couldn't be anything that he remembered. His mother had never seemed so carefree at the mansion; David had always thought it was because she'd dreaded leaving again.

He watched as a small boy ran towards his parents. They were waiting for him, a pile of suitcases next to them. The boy continued waving before his parents ushered him into the car. He jumped in and waved again before they shut the door. David strained his eyes, but it was no one he knew. It only confirmed his theory.

"Anyone know when this is?" David asked softly.

Scott shook his head slowly. David raised his eyebrows as Erik did so too.

"None of us know?" he asked.

"No. I had already left by the time this place became a school," Erik said.

"I think that kid's Doug," said Scott, "He's pretty young here…I don't think I was enrolled yet."

"And I wasn't born yet," David said in confirmation, rubbing his temples, "So none of us know when this is?"

"Sweetheart?"

He turned his head to see his father coming up behind his mother.

"Seeing Doug off?"

Moira nodded. She observed his coat and scarf suspiciously.

"Getting ready to go outside?" she asked.

David began waving them towards the doorway. The snow fall was becoming suspiciously thick, although he could still hear the conversation between his parents. Though moving quickly hadn't been enough to help them in the past he was going to give it a try this time. The Phoenix must have at least been injured in its battle with Emma. That would slow it down.

"I'm afraid I interfered with one of Hank's science experiments. I deduced that it would probably be best if I journey out for a while," he said, "But in my defense the fibrous membranes that Hank was designing did look and smell an awful lot like gingerbread."

She laughed.

"Sometimes I don't know if you're the wisest, oldest, and most mature soul that I've ever seen," she said, "or a little boy who keeps getting his hand caught in the cookie jar."

He grinned at her and cocked his head.

"Do you want to come with me? You are dressed for it," he said.

The snow was falling thicker and the cold cut through him. They pushed on, following the path that his mother and father were leading before them. Then, like at the memory of Scott's wedding, the members in the memory stopped. David looked at them in disbelief, practically screaming to himself how unfair the outcome was.

He turned back to Scott and Erik feeling helpless. They knew what was going on just as well as he did.

"You say the Rogue girl took some of your powers?" asked Erik suddenly.

"Yes," David said, feeling surprised.

Erik nodded.

"The next one of us who gets pulled will have to ask that she copy the memory from Moira and transmit it to you," he said, "She's the only telepath that's left after all."

Scott winced, his face a mask of pain.

"That should work," David said uneasily, "I don't know how long she retains the powers though-"

"Quite some time," said Erik.

"You would know," Scott said.

David turned to look at him, hoping that he wouldn't let his emotions flow out like anger like his brother would. Scott was already an emotional wreck and a fight with Erik in that state would surely leave him badly hurt. Instead he saw his image begin to flicker and fade before disappearing entirely. David let out a sigh of relief. He was out of physical danger now, even if he knew his emotional troubles were only just beginning.


	67. Chapter 67

Scott gasped and leaned forward in his chair. Maeve approached with a shot of adrenaline which he didn't bother to acknowledge. Rogue could see them from the control room. She'd come back when the boredom of the recovery room had consumed her and she'd felt well enough to walk.

Rogue worried about her former teacher, or current. She wasn't sure which it was. There had been only rumors of what had happened to him before Logan and Ororo had confirmed him as dead. Now it appeared that they had made a mistake, one that they could very well be paying for shortly.

A large burn had appeared on his leg, forcing him to require assistance to reach the door. When it was open Rogue saw him turn his head to where Emma had been sitting until a few minutes beforehand. He opened his mouth before closing it once and looking at Moira. Something unsaid seemed to pass through them.

"Hospital Ward, room five. Critical. When you're better," she said.

He swallowed and looked at the X-men, seemingly seeing them for the first time. He shook his head.

"I don't have time for this," he said, "Where's Rogue?"

Rogue jumped slightly at the mention of her name. She got up from her chair. Scott made a vague gesture with his hand.

"You absorbed David's powers?" he asked.

She nodded, feeling hushed by the presence of a man she'd feared dead.

"You need to read Moira's mind and transmit a memory to them," He said, "They're trapped, some memory before David was born and after Magneto left."

Moira got up, looking tired.

"What did the memory look like?" she asked.

"It's the mansion," he said, his voice slightly faint, "it's snowing everywhere, you and the Professor are taking a walk…I saw Doug. He's about ten. Winter break."

Moira's eyes widened in surprise, and then softened.

"Oh, that," she said.

A faint smile graced her lips before turning to Rogue.

"Alright, I know you haven't done this before, but it's very simple," she said, "David was transmitting unprompted when he was three. You'll get the hang of it."

She nodded, feeling uncertain. Rogue looked to Logan who nodded. If he had thought she was in danger than she wouldn't have done that.

"Are you sure this is okay?" asked Bobby, "I mean…not to be unfeeling but the last telepath that went into his mind-"

Scott gave him a hard look. Rogue held out a hand to Bobby, feeling somewhat exasperated. They were drifting apart and she knew that a good deal of that was her doing. It wasn't about The Cure either, or at least not all of it. He hadn't wanted her to take it, she had, and even though Kitty hadn't meant to she had come between them. There was simply too much going wrong.

Still, he was close to her and in a way she was touched by his concern. If it could have only come at a different time that would have been better.

"She'll only be in there for a second. And Emma was in David's mind even deeper than Rogue will be for nearly the whole process," Moira said, casting a glance at Scott, "It's going to be alright."

Rogue nodded.

"So, uh, how do ah do this?" she asked.

"How should any of us know? Anybody here know how a telepath works?" asked Kitty.

"Kitty," Moira said, her voice half a laugh, "I was married to one telepath and the mother of another. I know how it works."

She sat down, motioning for Rogue to do the same.

"Just close your eyes and pretend that my head's a web," she said, "I'll be concentrating on this memory so just reach out and copy it with your mind. Like a computer file."

Moira paused.

"You've worked with computers right?" she asked.

"Back a' the school," Rogue replied.

"Yes, of course," said Moira, pinching her nose, "So much is computers…but what I'm getting at is that it's just that simple. You already have the power. Now just reach out."

She gave her a kind smile.

"It helps if you put your hands to your temples."

Obediently Rogue did so, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath, hearing Moira do the same.

"I'm concentrating on it, go ahead."

Tentatively Rogue reached out. Like Moira had said she saw a web, a thousand different thoughts and ideas criss-crossing each other. Feelings cocooned the thoughts, some tentative and some strong. She felt that if she reached out and plucked one she could remove or change it. If she pull the right threads she felt the whole thing would unravel. The power she felt was incredible and frightening.

Rogue moved until she saw the memory that Moira referred to. She concentrated, pressing forward until she could touch the membrane of the memory.

_"Why?" asked Charles, his voice lost and helpless, "I know you love this school, but you don't have to be with me to stay."_

_She recognized her professor, only he was much younger than she'd ever seen him. Moira was there, kneeling in the snow. She was younger too, young and certain. The Professor looked sad, though she didn't quite understand why. Everything in his posture spoke of defeat. _

_"I know," said Moira quietly, "I'm not with you because I don't want to leave. I'm with you because I love you."_

_"But I can't give you anything. If...if we were to stay together I probably couldn't even give you children."_

_He shook his head when she tried to say something in protest._

_"Don't deny it," Charles said, "I've seen your mind; I know how badly you want them. But I won't be able to give you that. All you would have is-"_

_"You," she finished for him, "You asked me a question Charles and I gave you my answer. Nothing's going to change it; that's where I want to be in ten years. I can see it, can you?"_

_A single tear fell from his eye. Charles opened his eyes again and stared into hers._

_"Yes sweetheart, yes I can," he said, his voice low, "And that's why I think you should look at your hands."_

_Moira looked down. A diamond ring had been slipped onto her finger. Her hands had been so numb with cold that she hadn't noticed. She looked up at him._

_"So?" he asked._

_She reached up and kissed him. Charles' arms wrapped warmly around her. He held her close as the snow continued to fall around them. Rogue was inundated by the warmth that dripped from the memory, the bitter sweetness. Subconsciously she delved further, feeling somewhat drunk with the feeling. It was a pull she couldn't resist though she tried to claw her way back. _

_Rogue found another memory, feeling its emotions and her own power. _

_"I am being reasonable," snapped Moira, tears in her eyes, "I want what you promised me on our wedding day, what every wife is promised; 'til death do us part'."_

_"It will part us much sooner if they think they can hurt me through you!"_

_"No," she said, "I promised. __**You **__promised!"_

_Charles grabbed her head he pulled her into a kiss. He broke down all the walls of his mind and showed her what he was afraid of. For the first time she saw the nightmares he'd had since Jason had come. He showed her the times he'd railed at himself; convinced that they should leave but hating himself for even thinking about sending them away._

_Rogue felt adrift as Charles showed her what Moira and David meant to him. It was becoming harder to distinguish herself from Moira. He showed her how his dream of coexistence had changed into a dream where his son could live in a free world, where nothing threatened them. Charles let Moira see the pride he saw in everything she did, and let her see how much he loved her. How much it would destroy him if he lost either one of them._

_He separated, panting. He touched his forehead to hers, his hands on each side of her face. She felt so lost, like she had just seen something destroyed. _

_"Sweetheart," he said, "you know I'm right."_

_Moira opened her eyes, crying and clasping his wrists. Charles pulled her into a fierce embrace and she wished that she could stay there forever. Moira knew she couldn't though and it made Rogue cry. She felt herself tumbling into another memory, unable to stop herself and too disoriented to try. _

_A wall suddenly blocked her progress and threw her backwards. _

"_You need to leave now," she heard a voice whisper, "Come on."_

"_So many promises," Rogue whispered, feeling disconnected, "He wanted to keep them but he couldn' an'…in ten years you weren' a' the school, you were a'-"_

"_It's alright," Moira whispered, "It's the fact that he wanted to keep those promises, that that's the life I wanted, that's what matters. But you need to come back now. You don't belong in my mind Rogue."_

_The mention of her name grounded her a little. She was Rogue. She was in Moira Xavier's mind and she needed to give the memory to David Xavier. That's what was happening. Rogue shook her head to clear it, wondering how telepaths managed to bear going into other people's minds so often. _

Rogue opened her eyes, blinking. She felt tears going down her face and looked at Moira with surprise.

"Ah'm sorry," she stammered, "Ah didn't know how ta stop myself an'…"

"It's okay," Moira said.

"What happened?" asked Logan.

"She got a little lost," Moira said, "But I've lived around telepaths for over twenty years. Charles taught me a few tricks."

Moira met Logan's glare evenly.

"She was never in any danger," said Moira, "Like I said; I know a few tricks. Homo sapiens aren't completely useless you know."

She got up, brushing dust off her skirt.

"Just transmit the memory now Rogue," she said quietly, "Like it's a letter you're throwing over a distance."

Rogue nodded, feeling shaken touching the side of her head she pictured the memory as a flat sheet of paper. She folded it and placed it in an envelop, sending it in David's direction. It was an odd feeling; like she was somehow cutting a piece of her head and throwing it away. The feeling made her shudder and she wondered how much discomfort the average telepath experienced on a daily basis. 

* * *

><p>The snow was freezing now, making David's teeth chatter. He felt nearly faint when he felt a memory tug in his head. Summoning strength he concentrated on his mother and father. They began moving again and he and Erik stepped forwards slowly in the knee-deep snow.<p>

Snatches of the conversation flowed above the snow.

"-I know you love this school, but you don't have to be with me to stay."

He couldn't see them through the storm, only hear scraps of thier conversation. David plodded out in the direction of their voices, hoping that it was enough.

"-not with you…don't want to leave. I'm with you…I love you."

"-give you anything. If...if we were to stay together…couldn't even give you children."

They had been wrong about that though. David stood as living proof of the fact. He felt the metal buckles in his uniform rattle as he was pushed forward by Erik. They had always worn them into battle for Lorna's sake, but they seemed useful with her father as well. His feet left deep grooves in the snow as Erik guided him forward.

"-asked me a question Charles and I gave you my answer. Nothing's going to change it… where I want to be in ten years…see it, can you?"

David was close enough that he could see the single tear that fell from his father's eye. He felt like he was intruding on this memory of his father's, but he couldn't help it. He needed to save him, a determination that Erik shared. His magnetic manipulations put his father within arm's reach.

Charles opened his eyes again and stared into hers.

"Yes sweetheart, yes I can," he said, his voice low, "And that's why I think you should look at your hands."

Moira looked down. A diamond ring had been slipped onto her finger. Her hands had been so numb with cold that she hadn't noticed. She looked up at him.

"So?" he asked.

She reached up and kissed him. Charles' arms wrapped warmly around her. He held her close and David touched his arm, allowing the memory to fade.


	68. Chapter 68

David hit the ground, hard. He pushed himself up and looked back to Erik. The older man only had time to shake his head before disappearing. David swallowed; it was just him then. He was near to the end and that meant that, as well as having only his own information, the Phoenix had only one target. He straightened himself and looked around.

The room was made of a textured, light wood. It was bare; no windows or rugs. There were no lights to indicate the Phoenix and he wondered when it would be arriving. The sound of footsteps drew near. Something flickered in the back of his mind. A cold terror gripped his heart as the door opened. Involuntarily David found himself trembling as three gunmen came into the room, ski masks on their faces and the letters FOH stitched onto their upper right breast pocket. The Friends of Humanity.

Sweat appeared on his forehead as he saw his younger self and his mother forced into the room. Moira's lip was split, she had defied the guards to pull him closer. David saw himself cling to her, the only safety he had in a strange and dangerous place. He felt his breathing become more and more erratic as he watched.

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. His father, he knew, was in the Blackbird racing to reach them. He'd be there if he waited, coming to rescue them with the X-men. He would help David build the cages; the first ones rudimentary but more advanced as time went on. David swallowed. Until then he was stuck in the room that contained the bulk of his nightmares, the room that had led to his life irrevocably changing.

David's child self cried out as Moira was separated from him. They had already experienced a terrifying car trip to a house he had never been before. For the first time in his memory the danger that his parents seemed so concerned about touched him. He was only eight years old; he didn't know how to react to what he was seeing.

His cry echoed around the empty room. It would be the last cry of his childhood. An FOH gunman hit him with the butt of his rifle, knocking him to the floor. David felt the pain on his cheek again, felt the burning sensation. Any harder and his jaw would have been permanently damaged instead of the nasty bruise he sported for weeks afterwards. He watched himself look up as the gun leveled with his mother's head.

"Nothin' fancy," one of them grunted, "Just get it done with."

David watched himself as he began to struggle to reach her, one of the gunmen grabbing him and pulling him away. Even then he had recognized his actions as pointless. He had all but forgotten about his powers in his panic. Why should he remember them? He had only ever had to use them during games where his father or one of his uncles would hold up a flashcard, the blank side to him. He'd tell them the shape on the other side and win. They had never been taught to him for use in combat.

For the first time in his life he was wishing that he was a fighter like Alex was. Alex wouldn't be struggling pointlessly. He would be able to fight off the gunmen and save Moira. David felt himself dragged down by the memory of that feeling of helpless despair, knowing there was nothing he could do.

"It's going to be alright," Moira whispered.

The gunman put in a new clip. David remembered the knowledge that no, it wasn't going to be okay. He saw himself shake his head. This couldn't be real. While he knew that his childhood hadn't been normal it had at least been safe. His father and mother had always protected him; he'd always been in places that were accepting of mutations.

Now he was being confronted by the hatred his parents fought so hard against. It was too much; it wasn't real, it wasn't happening.

"No, no, no, no, no, no-"

"Shut him up!" one of the gunmen yelled.

"No!" David's younger self screamed, "No!"

"Shut up kid!" the gunman holding him yelled, shaking him.

"No! No!" he continued, oblivious, "No! No! No! **NO**!"

He saw the ropes of psychic energy shoot out from him, ripping into each of the gunmen's heads and embedding itself deep within their minds. Tendrils flew upstairs and outside, gripping anyone who would hurt him or his mother. And then he watched in mounting apprehension as the tendrils started to swirl inwards, like a fishing pole whose line was being reeled in.

Simultaneously they all converged on him in a blast of psionic light. David remembered the pain, remembered the flames in his head. What he didn't expect was the room to burst into flames, to feel like he was the only one in the world. David looked around him, wondering what had happened. With a cold dread he remembered that this was how **he **remembered what had happened, not what had really happened.

Swallowing he looked behind him, seeing the shadowy figures slithering towards him, ready to bid for control. The memory of their claw-like hands on his mind, the damage they willfully attempted, made something grip his heart. This time though they weren't heading for his younger self. He realized that they were slithering towards him. 

* * *

><p>"David's heart rate is up. Nearly at heart attack levels," said Doug.<p>

Lorna looked at the monitors. They had recovered from their ordeal and, along with the rest of the X-Force, had left the recovery room. She disliked leaving her children there; she would have preferred to take them home. However, they'd already lost helpers and she was needed.

Amanda had gone down to help in the hospital wing. Lorna couldn't blame her; her family was down there. TJ was just barely regaining consciousness and Kurt was still under. Scott were both receiving medical care along with Emma. She'd been told that Megan was there giving the doctors there Emma's medical information. Mystique had left the area; probably running from the possibility of seeing her brother.

In short Rahne, Doug, and Moira had their hands full trying to strip wire and run the machine. They had nearly destroyed half of it just to keep things moving. Lorna and the rest of the X-Force were familiar with the Warlock technology, so as soon as they were able they had manned the stations. The X-men had been set to stripping wire and opening panels. Piotr and Logan seemed especially adept at that.

Rogue was sitting quietly with the headset. She was the closest thing they had to a telepath and they had to use whatever they could get. The powers that she had taken from David were fading and she struggled to tell them what was going on. Everything she told them was told in a halting, uncertain voice.

Thus far she had proved reliable, working through what Lorna could only suppose was a massive headache. All the members of the X-Force were doing the same, although their jobs weren't as important as Rogue's. She had managed to pull Erik though, and he had been removed to the recovery room after receiving adrenaline. Lorna was glad; she wasn't sure if she could face him just yet.

The sight of what had happened on the beach had shocked her, though it shouldn't. She had known. She had known since that one summer afternoon when Alex had told her Erik's other name. He was dangerous; he'd killed people. He was a terrorist. Still, he was her father. Lorna couldn't reconcile the man who'd looked at her prom pictures with the man who had ordered Moira's kidnapping.

So after she had told her father she wouldn't follow him she had separated them and, she admitted it, had denied much of what he had done. It was how she could keep her love for him alive, how she could let him into her house and show him his grandchildren. Lorna knew she couldn't change him, but that knowledge was easier to bear if some part of her denied that there was a problem in the first place.

To know though, without a doubt in her mind, the depth of the path he had taken was scarring. She felt like breaking down and crying somewhere, like she was seventeen again. Lorna still loved him, how could she not? He was her father and, while he was many things, he cared about her and had always tried to do right by her. That he had failed to do so was of little consequence.

Swallowing she clenched her teeth. What was she supposed to do though? She finally fully understood Alex's hate for him; he had done damage when he could have healed. He had betrayed his friends when they needed him most. Some part of her knew that she shouldn't go near such a person, but she couldn't just wash away her feelings. Her hand formed a fist, wishing she could run away like Mystique and express her feelings in privacy.

However, there was a job to be done. Lorna had been involved with the X-Men and the X-Force for twenty years. She was nothing if not dutiful.

"What memory is it?" asked Moira.

Rogue hesitated.

"Ah don't know," she said, "There's this room, an' these men."

"Go on," Moira said, "You're going to have to be more specific."

"Ah don't know…"

"You just have to concentrate," Moira assured her, "It's like turning on a TV and adjusting the reception. It's that easy."

Rogue scrunched her eyebrows in concentration.

"David's a chil'," she said, "An' the men, they're gonna shoot you but David's doin' somethin'…"

Moira went pale.

"Oh God," she said, "Oh no…"

"What is it?" asked Lorna.

"Is it…when we found him?" asked Ororo, her voice concerned, "When he was eight, is this the memory of that day?"

Moira bowed her head and nodded.

"I think so…David…he can't…he…"

"What happened to him?" demanded Logan.

She raised her head and swallowed, looking out the window at her son.

"He gained nightmares," Moira whispered. 

* * *

><p>It hurt. It hurt to see his younger self viciously ripped into by phantoms, knowing that those same phantoms were fighting him. Everything ached like his head was too small to contain it all. He wanted to bang it against something, open it up and let all the excess out. He restrained himself though; distantly remembering the concussion that his actions had caused.<p>

Over it all he felt the memory his mother's arms trying to restrain him. Her words echoed through the mass of pain that his mind was.

"Please, please, it's okay, it's okay. Please stop. Please…"

From somewhere far away he heard an explosion, but he couldn't afford to pay it too much attention. Pain was shooting through him and sweat stung his eyes. David gasped as he kicked away one of the phantoms, pushing himself further away. Another phantom grabbed him around the middle, pulling him to the ground. A third began clawing at his mind, their dark shapes almost bright with light.

David screamed in pain, shaking his head from side to side. The Phoenix was manipulating things, finding a way in. It would be there soon, he could already see the crack where light was coming through. He couldn't fight them though, didn't have the strength. It all hurt too much.

He closed his eyes and gasped out, trying to concentrate on anything other than the pain. He flailed out blindly and remembered the day that he had first taken Kurt to Lincross. His head seemed to hurt more when he thought about it, but he couldn't look away. It was such a precious memory, the day he had first told someone about what happened who hadn't been there.

_"What I'm trying to say," David said at last, "was that sometimes we do things, lose control. Sometimes we fall and the consequences are terrible. You never think it will happen to you, but sometimes it does and you can't stop yourself. But…when we do, if you have someone there to catch you then you can get through it. You can keep living, become what you want to be. For me it was my parents who caught and carried me."_

_ David turned to Kurt and gripped his arm. _

_ "And I want you to know that no matter what I'll be there to catch you," he said, "If I can prevent you from doing something that will compromise yourself , or even if all I can do is help you back up, then I won't give a second thought to doing it. None of us would."_

_ Kurt swallowed, looking shaken. _

_ "Danke lieber Vetter__," he said quietly, "Danke."_

Something strong grew inside him. He clenched his fists and let out a scream, pooling his power and blasting it outwards. The phantoms scattered, torn. Before they could regroup David scrambled to his feet. His parents had caught him when he needed it and he owed it to them to try for them. That was what you did for family.

He saw his father enter his younger self's mind and take him in his arms, protecting him against the phantoms that hunted him. The light was getting brighter but David ignored it. He had to stay focused. With another burst of energy rushed towards his father and touched one of the arms that was holding him.

The room began to blur, the colors running together. The bright light didn't go away like it had the other times though. David urged the memory on faster. He knew he was close, he could feel his father's presence now. With another push he entered the final memory, the Phoenix hot on his heels.


	69. Chapter 69

His entry into the next memory was bumpier than he'd experienced thus far. His forehead was dashed against something, blood began seeping into his eye. David pushed it away and struggled to get to his feet. Everything had been jostled; it felt like he'd been tossed from one end to another. Gaining his bearings he looked around him.

It was a crowded pub. People bumped into him, pushing him from side to side. He'd never been solid in a memory before. No one had paid him any mind, but this memory recognized him as an intrusion. His father was there, really there. David could feel it. All he had to do was find him.

"Do you have a minute?"

David's head whipped around. He could see his father being accosted by his mother, stopping him before he reached the bar. His father tilted his head; obviously rather deeply into his drink. Moira was already somewhat irritated but she was standing her ground, her arms wrapped around her in a don't-touch-me way.

"For a pretty little being with the mutated MCL1 gene, I have five," his father laughed, guiding her to a table.

Of course. He'd been told about this when he was younger. Every child found out, one way or another, how their parents met. They had never mentioned just how drunk his father had been, but he had always figured that it was to a rather considerable extent. This was the night where the course of his father's life had changed. It wasn't just that he'd met the woman who would become his wife and the mother of his child.

He had revealed his mutation and started a crusade to save humanity. The opportunity that he would be offered that night would lead him to his best friend and greatest enemy, the loss of his sister, and the birth of his dream. It was the start of everything, the beginning of his life, even if he didn't know it at the time. Of course he would be here.

Using his shoulder David began forcing his way through the crowds. Under different circumstances he would have simply pushed them away with his telekinesis. However, he knew he had to save his strength. He had already been greatly weakened by Rogue and his previous battles. He was going to need any strength he had left.

"I say, MCL1," his father continued, his voice somewhat drawling, "You would say auburn hair. It's a mutation, a very groovy mutation. Mutation, right, took us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form of-"

"You know what?" asked Moira, "This routine may go over great with the co-eds, but I'm here on business."

Light began to peek from beneath the door of the pub. David shoved someone to the ground in his haste to reach his father.

"What?" asked Charles.

"I really need your help," Moira said.

"What?" he repeated.

A co-ed knocked him into the counter of the pub. A glass toppled over and shattered on the ground, the glass and its contents going everywhere. David hit his lip and nearly lost his balance. At the last minute he gripped the counter and hauled himself back up. He pushed his way more aggressively, seeing the people solely as obstacles.

"The kind of mutations that you were talking about in your thesis," Moira continued, "I need to know if they may have already happened in people alive today."

His father put a hand to his temple. With a few more steps David drew level with him and grabbed his wrist. A faintly puzzled look came over his father's face.

"Dad," David said, "You have to stop remembering. I'm here now."

The puzzled look increased. The light under the door became brighter. Glasses rattled and people began to vanish around them.

"Dad," said David, his voice loud, "You have to come back. I need your help."

A tendril of light made its way out from under the door. Giving up on his gentle approach David grabbed his father by his shoulders and began shaking him.

"Dad!" he shouted, "Snap out of it!"

A tendril grabbed him around the waist, burning him and jerking him backwards. David cried out before focusing his powers. He blasted the tendril but another came, followed by three more. They wrapped themselves around his legs, dragging him towards the door. His arm reached out through the pain and grabbed the side of the counter, trying to hold on. He was too close to let it defeat him. 

* * *

><p>"His heart rate is up again," said Lorna, "And his breathing's increasingly erratic."<p>

"I think I know why," Alex said, "I think he's going into convulsions."

She looked up and saw that David was thrashing in his head set. All around him objects began to fly around, crashing into the walls. A chair floated into the air and slammed into the glass of the control room. It was reinforced though and didn't so much as splinter from the collision.

"Rogue!" Ororo said.

"It's got 'im in this bar," she said, her eyes pressed tightly in concentration, "Draggin' 'im away. It's so angry…"

"We didn't come this far to fail now," Doug said.

"Don't think there's much we can do," Rahne said, "We can't send more people in. It's down to David and now it's using his powers. I don't know what-"

A spark from the machine next to them cut her off. Lights went off and Doug dove wordlessly into the panel beneath it. She heard a few muffled curses but nothing more. When Lorna looked up again she saw that the chairs that she had once sat in were being hurled against the door to the recovery room. It didn't have the same reinforcements as hte control room. Under normal circumstances it was used a s a storage closet. Beneath the pressure the door began to buckle.

Her blood ran cold; her children were in there.

"Alex!" she screamed.

He looked up. Evidently he saw what she did and headed for the door with her. A few of the chairs slammed into it, barricading them in. Lorna pushed with her powers at the metal in the door but the force pushing at the plastic and leather chairs was too great. She didn't have the power to push them away, even with the adrenaline in her veins.

Alex let out a blast that was absorbed into the door. He pounded on it.

"What the hell is this made of?" he screamed.

"It's resistant to radiation and most impacts," Doug said, "That's how it can withstand the machine in case of a blow out and-"

Alex screamed wordlessly and pounded on the door. Lorna joined him in trying to push it open. She felt the rest of the X-Force and the X-men at her back. Carly, Maeve, and Terry were in there too after all. Only Doug was forced to stay at his station, attempting to keep Cerebro Mark II from short circuiting. He gave them a desperate look and Lorna nodded. They needed him to remain there.

With their combined strength the door moved a few inches. However, the chair had broken through to the recovery room, opening the door. 

* * *

><p>Erik had a headache that made him want to lay down in a darkened room for the rest of eternity. To his surprise he found his grandchildren as well as a few other members of the X-Force's family in the room they had set aside for rest. His grandsons had sat near him, looking a little awkward. Luna had kept a strange distance though, chewing her lip like she was trying to figure something out.<p>

When the pounding on the door started he had looked up. A few seconds later the door broke open. The chair flew forwards and pinned his grandsons and Carly, who had been filling new shots of adrenaline, to the wall. Maeve and Terry were thrown back into the wall, a chair hitting them in their waists. Terry started screaming, causing Erik to cover his ears, before she realized it wasn't doing any good.

For his own part the plastic recovery bed that he had been in flipped and pushed him to the ground. From the angle the was in he could see that Luna had crawled under the table, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She was four and scared. Her brothers were far from her, but he was close. Luna inched forward and gently touched his hand.

Almost immediately she was dragged forwards towards the door. Erik didn't know what the Phoenix wanted with his granddaughter, perhaps it had something to do with her strange way of knowing what people were feeling. Maybe it wasn't anything that complicated. Maybe it was simply trying to break the spirits of those in the control room by killing the youngest.

Either way, he wasn't going to let it happen. He looked at a metal chair in the room. The Phoenix might be telekinetic, but he held sway over metal. The chair contorted under his actions, turning into something like rope. It unwound and grabbed Luna around the waist, reeling her back into the room.

He felt the pressure from the plastic bed increase and dig painfully into his back. From far away Will wormed a hand out from behind the chair that trapped him, his brother, and Hank's wife. He closed his eyes and muttered under his breath. A red glow appeared around his hand before the plastic bed that pushed down on Erik disappeared.

Erik didn't stop to wonder how Will had done it. Lorna had told him that he had something akin to his father's power, only he seemed to be able to manipulate reality to some extent. It wasn't important at the moment. What was important was that Luna was still struggling to hold onto the metal.

He looked around the room and spied a metal table. He had once moved a bridge; he had the power to block this thing. Contorting his fingers he pulled the table forwards. It blocked the doorway and melded into the frame. He felt the pull in the room decrease. Those trapped fell to the floor, gasping. He hurried over to Luna, kneeling and checking for injuries.

Immediately she wound her hands around his neck. He picked her up as her brothers rushed over. They checked to make sure that she was alright, pressing close. A banging began at the metal barricade. Erik swallowed and got up, carrying Luna with him. He looked over at Terry, Maeve, and Carly. He jerked his head towards the door which was rapidly developing dents.

"We need to leave," he said. 

* * *

><p>The door was open nearly six inches when the door from the hallway opened. Lorna turned and cried out. Her father was carrying her daughter, her sons near him. She hugged her father and Luna, letting him transfer Luna into her arms. Feeling weak she fell to her knees and embraced her sons, feeling Alex at her back.<p>

His arms wrapped around her. As though from a distant place she saw Sean grab hold of his family. Carly sank into Hank's arms. Lorna heard Luna whisper softly;

"Aww safe," she whispered, "Gwandpa's a hewo."

Next to her Alex looked up at Erik, his face somewhat hard.

"Thank you," he said grudgingly.

Lorna felt no such reserve. Her father had done terrible things. They would never see eye to eye, never be anything other than enemies in anything other than special circumstances. She could never follow him, never be like him. That didn't mean that she didn't love him though, that he didn't love her. As she had seen, he loved his grandchildren too.

"Thanks dad," she whispered.

He gave a slight nod as Lorna rose to her feet. She was still holding Luna as she looked around the room. There were shocked looks on the faces of the X-men and she tilted her head defiantly. She had been an X-man for longer than many of them had been alive. Lorna wasn't going to tolerate that speculation from them.

"Back to what you were doing," she ordered.

There was a slight hesitation in their actions. Another chair slammed into the glass.

"Back to what you wree doing!" she repeated, her voice somewhat more forceful.

Her words galvanized them into action. She looked up at David's continued convulsions and Moira's worried face. Though her children had been saved they weren't out of danger by any means. The Phoenix was still there. 

* * *

><p>David lost his grip. He pushed desperately with his powers but it didn't slow him down enough. The door opened, nearly blinding him with its light. He was just about to cross the threshold into the heart of the Phoenix when he felt someone grab his forearm. David looked up, gripping the offered arm tightly.<p>

His father as he had been over twenty years ago looked down at him. He pulled him back as David kicked. Another tendril shot out but his father glared at it. The tendril withered. Focusing on the tendrils that had him around his waist Charles narrowed his eyes in concentration. The tendrils shriveled too and David was able to get to his feet. When he got up he found himself looking into his father's eyes.

Wordlessly he pulled him into a hug. It had seemed like years ago that he had last spoken to his father. His last conversation had been fraught with pain and the frantic hope that had led to their current situation. He had him now though; he'd saved him in a way. Concentrating he shared his memories with his father, a silent way to tell him what had happened since he had been gone, culminating in the method they were using to save him.

His father pulled away, his eyes wide.

"I knew some of that," he said, "But…everything with The Cure…and you let Raven and Erik onto the Island…that was the right thing to do. I'm so proud of you David."

A warmth started in his chest. He pulled his father into another hug. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another tendril shoot towards them. His father narrowed his eyes and the tendril snapped back into the light. David let go and stood next to his father, facing the open door that the light poured from.

"Ready to put this thing in its place?" he asked.

"Ready," Charles laughed.

David extended a hand as his father put one to his temple. Together they pushed at the door, shoving the light in the space outside the door. They had to isolate, get it away from them. It was the only thing that would work, the only thing that would keep his father safe from the blast that would be coming. Now that he had found him in the first place the rest seemed comparatively easy.

The Phoenix had grossly underestimated its enemies. He could tell that it had never expected David to fight it for so long or so effectively. It also hadn't banked on Charles' presence and strength or Moira's determination to save her family. Overall it had dismissed the combined strength of the Xaviers.

Now it faced a three-way front. The mind it was in was fighting it. Another telepath was pushing it away, and Moira was ordering the crew in charge of Cerebro Mark II. It should have known better than to take an Xavier as its opponent. It was downright suicidal to take on all three of them at once.

The door slammed shut, forcing the light back. David gripped his father's shoulder and his father did the same in kind. All they had to do now was hold on for the ride.

* * *

><p>"Now!" Rogue cried, "They're ready now!"<p>

Moira grabbed the power dial, focusing it all on David. She turned it up all the way but channeled it in the way that Doug had designed. It blasted into her son's mind. His convulsions increased and he opened his mouth in a wordless scream. Sparks flew out of the control board and tendrils of smoke filled the air. Objects dissolved into particles all around him, shattering the glass of the control room, causing her to duck and cover her head. 

* * *

><p>David concentrated, opening a link between himself and the comatose patient. They had to do it now before they ran out of power. The Phoenix was fighting and shaking the room, so it wasn't the easiest task. However, he managed to create the link. With a slight nudge he made it manifest as a door next to them.<p>

When the door opened he gestured to his father.

"Go through there," he said.

His father gave him one last hug.

"I'll see you soon," he said.

"I'll see you too father," David murmured.

Charles released him and ran towards the door. David didn't look away until the door closed behind him. Then he focused all of his remaining energy on keeping the Phoenix trapped. That was the last thing he had to do.

* * *

><p>Suddenly everything went silent. Moira got shakily to her feet and looked at the specs for her son; his heart rate and breathing had returned to normal. Breathing heavily she ran into the control room, trying to pick her way around the broken glass. With trembling hands she removed the headset.<p>

His eyes flickered open and the ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

"It's gone," he whispered, "It's gone and father…"

David looked over to the comatose patient in the next room. Moira looked too and felt her breath catch in her throat; there was no change.

"But…" David said, tears gathering in his eyes, "I…he told me…I was…I had him mother…I…"

"It's alright," Moira said, holding him as her own tears fell and her heart broke again, "You've saved yourself; that's more than we could have asked for…I've still got you."


	70. Chapter 70

Ororo sighed and rubbed her forehead. The previous day had been difficult for many reasons and those involved were still picking up the pieces. They had managed to save David but failed to save the Professor. That knowledge left a pain in her chest like he'd died all over again.

She glanced over at the hospital wing. Of those who had been put in there the day before most were expected to make a full recovery. The little girl named TJ had already been released. Kurt was going to be laid up for a while; he had been badly burned after all. No skin grafts were required though, which was a mercy. He seemed to have a slight healing factor somewhere. Moira had mentioned it probably had something to do with his mother, but Ororo hadn't understood.

David was quiet and had been put on several solutions. He wouldn't be strong enough for quite some time. Scott was on crutches; the burn on his leg would require skin grafts. She winced when she thought of him. When it was all over he had simply looked at Ororo and Logan and sighed. He had made it clear that he wanted to return to Westchester when he was better though. Beyond that she didn't know what he wanted.

Emma wouldn't heal so easily though. The doctors had given her a slim chance of survival that slipped further each day. Her bodyguard was keeping a constant vigil on her, much like the ones that Amanda and TJ were keeping for Kurt and Moira for David. The only difference was that Megan never left Emma's room for anything.

She looked through the glass pane in the door at the young girl. Megan sat on a chair, her feet resting on the seat cushion and her chin supported by her knees. Her arms were wrapped around her legs and she had her eyes closed. Ororo knew better than to think that she was asleep though. Every now and then she would prop her head up again.

Ororo knew what she was supposed to do. It was people like Megan that the Institute had been built for. If Emma died, as she seemed likely to do, then she would have nowhere to go. Ororo knew she should hold out the offer of coming to their school. She was around the right age for it; a little old but not too much.

Still, Megan had been a member of the Hellfire Club since birth if what she heard was true. She didn't know how to approach that. Charles had always handled such children personally. If he couldn't handle it then Scott or Alex were called in; they themselves had been runaways. This left her and Jean to recruit those that he thought would be most receptive to the protection offered by the school. It was why they had been sent for Kurt in the first place.

It was why she had called him in. Next to her she heard the clicking of crutches. Ororo turned and gave a tentative smile at Scott. He nodded at her and looked inside.

"I don't think she'll say yes," he said.

"You know her better than I do," Ororo replied, "I just want to offer her the chance."

"I do too," said Scott, "But I'm pretty sure Emma left her everything, and there was a lot to leave. She can take care of herself."

He sighed deeply.

"I'll try Ororo," he said, "I make no guarantees."

She nodded as he opened the door. 

* * *

><p>Megan looked up as Scott came in. She gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement as he settled into a chair, propping his crutches against the wall. She didn't fail to notice the way his eyes slid over Emma, the quick look of shame that flashed across his face. Megan gripped her legs closer to her chest.<p>

"Megan," he said, "I don't know how to say this."

"You're sorry for what happened to Emma," Megan said, her voice flat, "I get it. Let's not talk about it, okay?"

She noticed the startled look on his face and turned away. Megan didn't dare talk about what had happened to Emma. If she did she had the feeling she'd break.

"What are you here for?" she asked.

He sighed.

"Listen, you know that I'm a teacher at a school," he said, "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

Megan gave a small snort. She'd heard about the school from Emma several years ago as something they should keep an eye on. To be honest it sounded like a small piece of heaven to her. Finding out about the X-men made it seem like perfection. They were making a difference, a difference that she wanted to make. She had never seriously believed that going was an option for her. If she went she'd have to leave Emma behind.

His offer made something inside her take umbrage though. How dare he offer to take care of her like she was a child?

"I know I look eighteen," she said, "But I'm closer to thirty."

"No, you're not," Scott said, his voice tired, "Emma explained it to me; your mental and physical development are linked. You're eighteen Megan."

She bit her lip.

"Either way I'm an adult," she said, "I don't need school."

"I know Emma taught you well," Scott said, "But…getting an actual degree really can help with your future. We have college programs you should seriously consider."

Letting her legs go slack she looked him straight in the eyes.

"Scott, you don't need to feel responsible for me," she said, "I'm not…you're not…not..."

"I'm not your father, is that what you mean?" asked Scott quietly.

She nodded fiercely. At one point Megan had hoped that he would take the job; marry Emma. He would be different than Jason had been, would care about her and make an effort to make what they were a family. They would all live happily ever after like in a fairy tale. She should have known better. Hadn't she learned when she was little that fairy tales weren't true?

"Megan," he said, "I want you to know…I cared about Emma."

Her grief quickly turned to anger. Emma had been everything to her, the only family and friend she had ever had. With her gone she had nothing. And now he said he cared about her, after what he did to her? Her rage leapt higher. She wheeled it, spun it, used it like Emma had always taught her to, until it formed into words.

"Then why did you hurt her?" Megan asked viciously, getting to her feet, "She cried for you Scott! I've only ever seen her cry when Regan nearly killed me. And you, you just couldn't be bothered!"

He looked away but she grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at her.

"You took and took but gave nothing but empty promises!" Megan yelled, "And she still loved you, loved you enough to nearly die for you! They say she won't make it, they're thinking I'm stupid for hoping. Well that's all I can do!"

She shook her head.

"And now you come in here talking about a school like there's nothing else for me!" she continued, "Well don't worry your perfect little head. I can take care of myself. Emma taught me to survive. The only real mistake she made was to love you and…and…"

Megan felt hot tears run down her face unbidden. She hadn't even noticed that they were welling up, hadn't felt the stinging sensation that normally followed them. It was too late to stop them, too late to pretend that they hadn't happened. Instead she let them flow, the first time she had allowed herself to cry over the fate of her mother.

The anger had run out; all that was left was sadness. Her eyes closed.

"You made her happy," she choked out, "You made her so happy and I wanted that…and it was good to have you there and you were good to us and…why did you have to hurt her Scott? All she wanted…"

She swallowed.

"...all she wanted was for you to love her," she said, "Why couldn't you give her that?"

Her eyes opened and she stared at Scott. He was crying too, his head bowed.

"I wanted to…I should have," he whispered, "I wasn't right anymore and I didn't want to burden her with that and…I couldn't…I was damaged and..."

"She would have loved you anyway," Megan said.

He nodded, burying his head in his hands. Megan hesitated. Some part of her was still angry at Scott, but it was leaving her. There was so much about her mother and him that she didn't understand, but she could tell in that instant that he had loved her. That made him something in her eyes. With Emma gone he was the only connection she had left.

So she hugged him and the two cried together. 

* * *

><p>"You must not blame yourself."<p>

David laughed bitterly and leaned back in his chair.

"I failed him Kurt," he said, "I failed him. I just had to transfer the link and everything would be fine. But instead… I talked to him…he told me he was proud of me…"

Kurt looked at him pityingly from his hospital bed. His cousin had plunged back into the deep abyss of grief that Kurt had seen right after his uncle had died. He couldn't blame him. He too felt sadness at the fact that they had lost him again. Still, he knew that his cousin blamed himself and there was no reason to.

"Dafid," Kurt said gently, letting his three fingered hand rest on his shoulder, "You tried eferyzing you could."

"It wasn't good enough. I should have made that transfer, it should have happened instantly if I was strong enough," David said, "But I wasn't."

"How could you haf been?" reasoned Kurt, "You'd spent ze whole vay fighting ze Phoenix, protecting us-"

"You call what I did protecting?" asked David, "A woman's dying, you're injured, Scott's injured, even TJ was in the hospital ward! And what was it for? A procedure we could have done in seconds if we weren't trying to save my father. If I had known I was going to fail then I wouldn't have dragged so many people down with me."

He sighed.

"And now my mother's lost her husband again," he said, "He was there Kurt…right there and I let him go…"

A few tears squeezed from his eyes. Kurt pulled him into a one-armed hug before David pulled back.

"I need to get back to my room," he said, "Mother's coming to check on me soon. She doesn't want me out of my bed. I've already caused her enough pain."

He shook his head and, resting one hand on the wall for support, guided himself towards the door.

"Lieber vetter," called Kurt.

David stopped and turned.

"Your vater, he vould not vant you to blame yourself," said Kurt, "You said zat he said he vas proud of you. I zink zat he ist looking down now, und he ist still proud."

David managed a weak smile.

"Thank you Kurt," he said.

"Anytime lieber vetter," he replied.

Nodding David opened the door. Amanda was waiting there. She yielded respectfully to David as he walked past. Her eyes followed him before she stepped inside the room and shut the door. Kurt smiled and shifted slightly in his bed. She laid down on the barest edge of it on her side, one hand curled on his shoulder and the other stroking his face.

"Miene engel," he whispered.

The first time she had been with him after his injuries she had sat on a chair next to him, not wanting to aggravate his wounds. Instead he had pulled her closer to him. He had nearly died and he wasn't going to be denied the nearness of his love. She smiled as his tail flickered up and wrapped around her waist.

He nuzzled his head into her neck.

"I like ze soap you are using," he murmured, "It smells nice."

"It's the same as last time," she answered playfully, brushing a few strands of his hair behind his ear.

Amanda paused then.

"Kurt, they're saying that I'm well enough to travel soon," she said.

He stiffened slightly before relaxing, holding her with a slightly tighter grip than before. His heart hurt at the admission, but there were other people out there to whom Amanda was special. Kurt couldn't hoard her selfishly no matter how much he wanted to.

"Vell, ve knew it vas going to happen," Kurt reasoned, keeping his voice controlled, "Vhen...vhen are you going to leave?"

"In two weeks," she said, "I miss my family, I do, it's just...you need me."

"I alvays need you," Kurt laughed, kissing her on the temple, "Und I vill still need you vhen you come back for ze next year. You are coming back, ja?"

"Yes," replied Amanda, "I can't stay away."

He kissed her on the lips briefly then. One of her hands rested on his shoulder, aggravating a burn there. He hissed in pain and pulled away. Amanda withdrew her hand and he gave her a weak smile.

"Nozing engel," he said.

"Didn't sound like nothing," she said, "I can just sit by-"

His tail pulled her closer to him.

"You are not going anyvhere," Kurt said firmly, "I like you vhere you are. I vill be alright."

Amanda sighed and repositioned her arm. She hesitated for a moment.

"Your cousin," she said, "Will he be alright?"

"He ist strong," said Kurt, thinking of the pained expression on David's face, "I pray zat he vill find ze strength to continue. Vhat hast happened vas hard for him."

She nodded.

"And you?" asked Amanda, "I know what the doctor's say about the burns but...I mean the other things. We haven't really had a chance to talk about what happened and…I don't know if you want to…"

Kurt hesitated. He had meant to talk about with David during his cousin's last visit. However, he wasn't going to burden David with this. He had enough. Amanda was the only other person he could talk to it about.

"Zere ist somezing," he said, "I…vhen I vas in ze past zere vas zis moment…you know miene teleportation teacher?"

Amanda stiffened. He blinked at her reaction. He thought they got along fine.

"What about him?" she asked, her voice stilted.

"I…I know zis sounds crazy. And I know zat it does not make zat much sense. I mean, he should haf said somezing if it vas true," Kurt said, "But…I zink zat...I zink zat Azazel may be my vater. I think you say fazzer, ja?"

Amanda's face changed.

"I am somevhat vary, but not unhappy," said Kurt, "He is strange und…somevhat violent, ja, but ve could still-"

She cut him off by pulling him closer, burying her face in his hair.

"Engel?" he asked, feeling stunned.

"It's just…Kurt…I just…" she said, her voice breaking, "I tried to…but then with David…I wanted to but…"

"Vhat is it?" he asked, feeling worried.

She pulled away enough so that she could look into his golden eyes. Her hands cupped his face.

"Kurt, I'm so sorry," Amanda said, "But there's something I have to tell you."


	71. Chapter 71

Kurt stood on the battlements, his head bowed in silent prayer. He didn't know if he had the strength to do what needed to be done. The wind tugged at his coat and he gripped the battlements with one of his hands. The other clicked away at his rosary. He shouldn't be out of bed really, the doctors were very adamant about that, but you couldn't hold a teleporter down for too long.

"Ah, you are up."

He looked over his shoulder at Azazel who leaned nonchalantly against the opposite wall. He smirked at him.

"I assume you are not ready for lesson though, da?"

Kurt stared at him blankly. How had he not seen this before? He knew it was because of TJ. It wasn't anything that she had done, and it certainly wasn't her fault. However, the presence of a blue-skinned mutant that looked like him but wasn't related had dulled his mind. Lots of people could look like that and have nothing to do with him.

Noticing his lack of a response Azazel raised an eyebrow. The arching shape was familiar as well, Kurt recognized it as something he did when he was surprised.

"Something on your mind malchick moy?"

Inwardly Kurt winced. He had asked David what the phrase meant after Amanda had told him the truth. David had frowned and told him that it meant 'my boy' in Russian. Kurt felt like an idiot. All these months, over a year really, Azazel had been telling him exactly who he was. He just hadn't understood.

"Vhen I vas younger," Kurt said slowly, "I zought zat I vas alone in ze vorld. I also zought zat I vas eine dämon spawn zat had escaped from hell."

"The people who raised you did poor job," Azazel observed, a flicker of anger in his eyes.

Kurt ignored his interruption and continued staring straight ahead.

"I told miene lieber vetter zat I had a dream vonce zat I voke up in my room and ein rot teufel vas vatching me. I started screaming und ze Vagners came. Vhen zey turned on ze light zere vas nozing zere."

He saw Azazel's poster stiffen.

"It vas not a dream zough, vas it?" he said, turning to face Azazel, "Because zat vas you zere zat night."

Azazel stared at him evenly but said nothing.

"I know vater, I know," said Kurt.

Slowly his father nodded.

"It did hurt, that night," he said, "when you screamed. I did not think you would wake, did not think you would be afraid, but I was wrong. I had to leave; you were scared."

Kurt tried to remember if the devil in what he'd thought had been a dream had looked hurt or in pain. He couldn't remember; he had been too scared at the time.

"I had to teleport away before the Wagners came," said Azazel, "They were stupid couple."

"But you gave me to zem to raise," Kurt said.

He was surprised at how calmly they were able to discuss this. Something inside of Kurt was balancing precariously on a precipice though, threatening to topple over.

"They owed favor," Azazel said, "They were…not bad off. Not too rich, not too poor. Had decent life. Circus would prepare you to be-"

"A varrior," finished Kurt, "Ist zat vhat you vanted? Somevone whose life vas defoted to violence?"

"Of course," Azazel said, shrugging, "I wanted a son that would fight for what he wanted. And you fought for your devochka and dvojurodny brat. You have been good. You have much potential, only leave behind this pacifist nonsense. Not bad."

"Not bad," Kurt repeated, "You vanted me to be just like you."

"For the most part," shrugged Azazel, "Your self-imposed limits are confusing."

Kurt shook his head and Azazel gave him a fond glance.

"Ah, you do not understand," said Azazel, "You are everything I wanted. Everything and more syn."

The title made Kurt shiver a little.

"Of course I vas. You stole me seconds after I had been born," he said, his voice sharp, "You vere zere my entire life, some puppet master who nefer had ze decency to refeal himself."

His father raised an eyebrow again.

"Now, I understand you knowing I am otets," said Azazel, "But I do not understand how you know about…"

A hard and furious look seized his father's face.

"It was your whore mother, was it not?" he demanded, "She told you? Her version is very different malchick moy, I assure you. And it is not right one!"

The harsh use of the words made Kurt draw back from Azazel. He had only ever heard him speak this violently when he was talking about how Kurt shouldn't let his appearance hold him back. Now he wondered how much resentment against Mystique had been held inside, how many years he had borne it.

He hesitated. How much did he really know this man? Certainly he had always known that Azazel was capable of violence. Yet, he had never thought of him in the context of his father. Now he was having to face it and he didn't know how he was supposed to do it. Kurt swallowed hard.

"Amanda heard you talking vith miene mutter und told me," he said.

Azazel's face lost some of its rage but remained hard.

"Stupid devochka cannot keep her mouth shut," Azazel said.

"You leave Amanda out of this!" Kurt shot back.

She had cried when she told him, knowing that the information would only hurt him. Still, he thanked her for telling him. It had made his heart sink but he knew he was better off knowing. He couldn't be kept in naïve ignorance. Too much had happened in his life for that to happen; something Azazel didn't seem to understand.

"She should have minded own business," snapped Azazel.

"Miene business ist hers as vell now," said Kurt, his fist clenching, "Und she ist the only vone in zis situation who did ze right zing."

"Nyet! She did not-"

"Ja, she did!" Kurt hissed, "Because out of eferyvone, mine mutter und vater, she ist ze only vone who told me ze truth!"

Azazel cocked his head before folding his arms across his chest.

"Perhaps," he said, "Perhaps."

"Zere is no perhaps about it," Kurt said, "You should haf told me vhen you met me. I vould haf…I vould haf been ignorant, ja, but-"

"But what?" interrupted Azazel, "How would that be better? I would have told you and you would have run to dvojurodny brat and the starshy brat. And then I would have been locked away. Nyet. Not good."

"Maybe not at first. Zat I understand," Kurt said, "But all of ze secrecy, like you could not talk to my face, had to hide eferyzing. Vhy did you not tell me? I vould…"

He nearly spat the next words.

"I vould haf been **excited**."

Azazel tilted his head and gave him another fond look.

"Ah, Kurt," he said, "You know I named you after my otets? Died trying to protect me from mob. Succeeded but he died, him and my mother. Your grandparents. If they had lived, I would have given you to them."

He felt his breath quiet.

"You stole me from miene mutter."

Azazel shook his head.

"She did not deserve you. You have seen how she destroys everything, pushes it away. You have seen how she lives," he said, "Her family is...**wholesome** though, I agree."

He said the word in disgust.

"So...not bad I suppose. But where would that have left me? Could I have seen you? Nyet. I was thier enemy," said Azazel, shaking his head, "She knew that. And as for now, after everything…I was waiting to tell you. Da; I should have said something sooner. But I do not regret what I did. She would have abandoned you, so I took you instead."

"Und left me to be raised by strangers."

"You act as though I abandoned you," said Azazel, his lips twisting into a frown.

"You did," Kurt said.

"Nyet!" Azazel said.

He teleported so that he was inches from Kurt.

"I never abandoned you!" he said, "I watched over you."

"In vays zat I voke up screaming vhen I saw you!" snapped Kurt, "You hid in ze shadows of miene life!"

"You say like I did bad thing," Azazel said, "Why do you not understand?"

"Vhy do **you **not understand?" Kurt said, "Do you know vhat I vould haf gifen vhen I vas young to understand zat I vas not alone in ze vorld, zat zere vere more like me? Zat vas vhat could haf been your gift to me, to let me know zat I vas not some freak!"

Kurt gave his father a hard look. The man seemed surprised, as though the idea had never occurred to him.

"I told the Wagners to have you appreciate-" he began.

"Ja! But being told zat und knowing are two different zings!" Kurt said.

His voice became slightly bitter.

"Know vhat zey told me?" asked Kurt, "Zat I should pity zhoze zat did not understand, 'because most people vill never know anyzing beyond vhat zey see vith zeir own two eyes.'"

"My words."

Kurt laughed somewhat bitterly. Of course they were.

"Und vhen zey said zat," Kurt said, "I tried so hard to believe it but it made me feel like zey did not understand, zat zey vere dismissing eferyzing…"

Gripping the wall he rocked on his heels. His burns were hurting him immensely now but everything hurt so it didn't matter all that much.

"Vhat I vould haf gifen for miene real family; for miene vater," he murmured.

"I tried," Azazel said, "I tried. But I could not raise you in Brotherhood."

"I agree vith zat."

"So I tried to get your mother to come with me, marry perhaps, raise you in shifts," Azazel said, "But that takes two Kurt. I tried. This was the only way when she said no."

Kurt looked at him incredulously.

"How vould zat haf been eine **gut** idea?" he asked.

"What?" asked Azazel.

"You vould haf raised eine baby," Kurt said, "in betveen committing terrorism und killing people. Being part-time parents surrouned by violence-"

"Is nothing I do good enough?" demanded Azazel, "Our lives were not good for parenthood, da, but that was all we could do. I wanted to take you with me, but I could not have brought you into that world. Surely that is not what you want."

"No," Kurt said, "But you could haf done more."

"Like?"

"Left ze Brozerhood. Eizer of you, both of you," said Kurt, "I vas a baby, yours! Miene tatchen gaf up her vay of life for miene lieber vetter, his vater sacrificed so much-"

"You are comparing me to her starshy brat and that human?" demanded Azazel, "I am not this Charles or Moira. I did what I could! **Me**, who I am! And I was your father!"

Azazel threw his hands out.

"I decided how you'd be trained, your schooling, made sure you were properly cared for!" Azazel said, "When Stryker took you I searched for months, fought for information! I was one who taught you to control powers, encouraged you to go after devochka you now wish to marry! Your mother was one that abandoned you. I was your father always Kurt, and still am!"

He panted, his chest rising unsteadily.

"I am your father," he repeated.

Kurt closed his eyes tightly. Everything Azazel said was true. He had been a friend, a mentor, and a confidante. Even when he hadn't seen him he had always been there. It didn't excuse him for what he'd done, for how he could have done things better. Still, it was the one thing he had to hold onto, like the small signs he had marshaled that his mother cared for him.

"Ja, ja, you are," said Kurt.

He took a deep breath.

"You haf done much wrong," Kurt said, "I vondered sometimes how Lorna could lif vith her vater. But it is not so simple. My life und yours vas nefer compatible. But you are miene vater, und alvays vill be. So much vas lost…vhat Lorna has vith her vater, I almost enfy zat. But ve are not…I vill never agree vith you on many zings. I am not somevone who vants to be violent; but I vill continue vith zese X-men."

Azazel nodded.

"And?" he prompted.

"Und...und..." Kurt sighed, "ze family I belong vith ist ze family of miene onkel, miene tatchen, miene lieber vetter. Amanda und TJ."

He sighed again.

"Danke for vhat you did for me, for nefer fully abandoning me. But you still left me vith people who did not lofe me, who...nefermind. It vas ze only vay you saw, zough I do not agree," he said, "But ve vill nefer be vhat ve could haf been. I know zat, und so do you. You vould not lif ze life I lead."

Azazel laughed.

"You act as though this is dasvidania."

Feeling surprised Kurt looked over at Azazel, who looked somehow sadly amused.

"You think now I run off and disappear for twenty years without word to child, like Magneto," he said, "I will leave island certainly; I suppose you told the dvojurodny brat about me."

"Who else vould I talk to zis about? Amanda feels bad enough," Kurt said.

His father waved it away.

"Well, I am dangerous. Good that you do not forget. And good that you have devochka that will tell truth, as inconvenient as it," said Azazel, "She does love you, hold onto that. But Kurt, remember somezing."

He tapped him on the forehead.

"Incompatible lives? Well, I agree. That happens," he said, "But do not think that this changes much. I have been in your life since the beginning and I will not go away. I will be in touch. Unexpectedly, da. But I will be."

Azazel smiled at him. Then he suddenly pulled him into a hug. Kurt blinked, managing only to somewhat return it towards the end through his shock. Azazel pulled away and smiled, showing his fangs.

"I have been waiting twenty one years to do that," he said, "Now, take care goluboy syn."

Without another word he disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Kurt stared after him, feeling tears in his eyes. After what had happened with his mother the talk he'd had with Azazel had seemed almost normal, almost right. He had to remember where the two of them stood though; each viewing the world through different eyes.

"Are you going to be alright?"

Kurt blinked as his cousin walked up next to him. He felt grateful for having him there only a few feet away for the conversation, feeling his presence as a type of support. He hugged David, his eyes closed.

"Ja."


	72. Chapter 72

Moira hadn't slept the first night after the incident with Cerebro Mark II. There had been too much to do. She thought that it was good that she hadn't slept; if she hadn't slept than she couldn't dream. The second night she had fallen into the sleep of the exhausted; one that had lasted several hours. She made her rounds as usual that day though. The island didn't stop running just because Moira and the others were tired.

She walked by the room that had led to Cerebro Mark II. Doug had sworn off the machine and vowed to rip it apart soon. She had rarely seen him so vehement, so full of hate at one of his own creations. There weren't any flaws in design, except for the fact that Doug considered that it rested on a faulty principle. The incident had convinced him that multiple people shouldn't be mentally linked; it could only lead to trouble. She had a copy of the plans hidden in her desk though. You never knew.

She'd tended to her patients, although some seemed in better condition than others. Emma was failing fast; it was obvious to her that she wasn't going to last more than another day or two. Megan had said that she'd think about enrolling at the school from what Scott had told her. The man seemed broken at what had happened to Emma, a deep sorrow that both reminded her and stood in contrast to what he had been like after Jean's death.

Moira didn't know how things had stood with Emma and Scott before her death. Scott seemed deeply hurt by it, something that Alex had picked up on. She was glad that he had attempted to understand his brother's pain instead of brushing it away. He was built for this though. He had already had a wife who mourned her loss of someone he considered despicable. It had prepared him for his brother.

Her son had also needed her attention. To start with he had been unhealthy when they had started the experiment. David had told her that the Phoenix had been diverting his attention, making him think that his illness was less serious than it was. He hadn't slept in days, his body taking micro-naps that he was unaware of because he would have died otherwise. She shook her head. The Phoenix had nearly taken over him, it was that good at manipulating people. He had even dismissed the change of pigmentation in his eyes.

His eyes were back to normal now, but many other things were not. Unlike the other members of the X-Force he had needed four shots of adrenaline instead of one to remain perfectly lucid. His body was dehydrated and weak; his metabolism had burned fat at an astronomic rate while he was in Cerebro Mark II. She had estimated that he had lost fifteen pounds. They had had to feed him extra nutrients and fat through IV's nonstop as well as feeding him his normal amount of meals.

Mentally he was exhausted and mourning his father. Moira was too, her hand touching the ring that hung on a chain around her throat. She had hoped that she would be able to see him again, that the sorrow that always stayed deep inside her would be relieved. She had yearned just to be able to say she loved him one last time, that she would always stay by his side, and to make sure that he knew that she wouldn't trade their marriage for the world.

Admittedly their marriage had not been ideal. She had told Charles that, ten years after he proposed to her, she had hoped to be helping Scott with his homework at Westchester. When she had found out that she was pregnant, that they could have children after all, David had been factored into those plans. She'd imagined a family that, while not perfect, was happy.

It was a wonderful image and one that for a while seemed predominant. Charles had been with her when she had given birth and their son had been healthy. Together they had laid him in his nursery, a nursery that they had built. She had imagined it changing over the years, the baby toys giving way to more sophisticated ones. He had seemed to be turning out like his father so she'd imagined that a book case and a chess set would find their way in.

Then Jason Wryngarde had defiled the nursery and their room with bloodshed and violence. They had never used either of those rooms ever again. She had been shaken and refused to let David out of her sight for two days afterwards. Charles had held her that night, comforting her as much as possible.

Even so she had never imagined what would come as a result of it. Charles had begged her to leave and she had to admit that he was right. If it had just been her then she would have stayed with him and damned the consequences. However, she had David to think of. She wasn't just a wife anymore; she was also a mother. So she had regretfully packed her bags and gone to Muir Island.

And that first night she had fallen on her new bed and cried. He hadn't had the reach to contact her that night and she'd hid her tears from Rose so she had no comfort. It was only weeks later that she first heard him in her head. That was what she was predominantly given over the years. At times it didn't seem enough, but she had never seriously considered leaving him despite his broken promises.

She had meant what she said to Rogue. He had wanted them to be a family, wanted to keep every promise he had made to her. It didn't matter if those promises were unsaid, whispered in her ears late at night, or proclaimed in front of a minister. He had wanted the image of a family united that she had just as bad as her. Maybe even more.

Their whole relationship could be measured in stolen moments, in whispers from oceans away. Everything about their relationship seemed surreal at times. The few times when he was with her as a physical presence she would lie awake next to him sometimes, just trying to convince herself that it wasn't another dream.

She found that the truth of the matter was that she missed the mundane parts of their life the most. She missed the ability to go and ask him what he thought about a movie or book, if they should start a student on an advanced course. Even the moments of togetherness that were squeezed in between their schedules had seemed special, even more precious now that he was gone.

_"Could you honestly imagine me going up to some random girl and saying-" he stopped and flipped through the book, "here we go; if all the world hated you, and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved you, and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends?"_

_She shrugged._

_"I'm sure you'd find some way to work it into the conversation," she said._

_"You confidence in me is staggering."_

_"I'm glad you find it so," Moira said, "And I know who to go to if I ever need to look up books that housewives swooned over in the mid-nineteenth century."_

_"You're really not going to let this one go, are you?"_

_"Never," she assured him._

_He shifted himself so that his torso was parallel to hers, propping himself up with his arms. His legs got left behind, still lying straight like he was on his back. She wondered if she should straighten his legs. Even if he couldn't feel them they were still part of his body. The look in his eyes was too consuming for her to pay much attention though. _

_"No using this as blackmail now sweetheart."_

_"We'll have to see about tha-"_

_Charles lowered his head so that his lips came in contact with hers, cutting her off in mid-sentence. One of her hands went behind his neck, pushing him closer and combing through his hair. Her other hand went down his back, fisting in the cloth of his shirt. The fabric seemed so thin, thin enough to push through. She had to remind herself that they were in the library._

_He broke off their kiss and started laying gentler ones down her jaw and onto her neck. She moaned a little and tightened the fingers in his hair and shirt, her reminders about the library nearly being forgotten. She was aching for his lips on hers again though. Then the hand on the back of his head pushed him so that he was on her lips again. Charles smiled before resuming their original kiss, one of his own hands moving to the side of her face._

_"Hey, Professor, I just got this letter from my parents and- __**my eyes**__!"_

_Groaning at being interrupted Charles turned so that he faced the doorway. Moira blushed and stifled a laugh. Alex had come in, an opened letter in his hand that wasn't occupied with covering his eyes. The question he had been trying to ask had apparently long since died on his lips. He had started backing away as though he had found himself in a room on fire._

_"Geez, get a room you guys!"_

Moira began laughing at the memory. He'd found himself there in her dreams once or twice, just so she could recreate the look on his face. Once Charles told her that he'd actually considered throttling Alex for the interruption. Her laughter turned to tears soon and she wiped them away.

So much of their communication had been through dreams, dreams that always left her with a sense of suspended reality when she woke up. Even during the dreams they didn't feel completely real. Still, they were better than going months without talking to him. To know now that she wouldn't even have those dreams anymore was almost unbearable.

Sighing she looked at the room number and swallowed. It was his room. If they had been lucky then this comatose patient would have housed her husband. David even told her that it would shape itself to look like him. Moira gave a choked laugh as she forced herself to open the door.

She walked briskly into the room, struggling with her emotions. One of her pins was coming loose on her jacket and she adjusted it.

"Morning," she managed.

Moira read the display next to him. His vitals were fine, although she saw that there had been a slight increase in activity. She'd ask for a decrease in his adrenaline.

"Hello Moira."

Her head jerked to the side and she stared at the patient. Her heart skipped a few beats, stuttering in a strange rhythm before stopping entirely. Liquid ice and fire filled her veins simultaneously, making her wonder if she was dreaming. Slowly she drew herself up, her lips beginning to tremble.

Because she wasn't looking at a comatose patient anymore. Instead she was looking into familiar periwinkle eyes that had always drawn her in, drowning her.

"Charles," she breathed.

He smiled at her and slowly removed the breathing mask, pushing himself up. Moira covered her face in her hands, digging her nails into her flesh to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

"Sweetheart," he said.

Wordlessly she rushed into his arms, jerking his head into a kiss. This was no dream. She had never had one as wonderful as this. 

* * *

><p>David sat bolt upright in his bed. A psionic itch had begun in his hypothalamus. It was almost playful, something that reminded him of exercises when he was a child. Abruptly he threw his covers up and started running down the hall in his bare feet. He nearly ran over Logan and got pushed back.<p>

"Watch it kid," he snapped.

David gave him a slight glance and Logan's eyebrows raised, realizing who it was. They had all been walking on eggshells around him. He knew how fragile he looked, the dark circles under his eyes and pale skin certainly made him look sickly. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, as though every move was an unbearable exertion. They all knew how he blamed himself for the failure of the project.

He waved him away with his hand and continued running. He managed to avoid anyone else for the rest of the trip. David could feel only relief at that; he didn't know what he would do if he ran into them. He probably wouldn't even stop to wave them off like Logan; the itch was getting stronger. In that frame of mind he probably would have just bowled them over.

Gasping he had to stop at one of the halls. He cursed how weak his body had become. After this he was going to double time his Danger Room sessions. He hadn't been this weak in years and he didn't like that he was like it again. He was a member of the X-Force and he had run from one side of the island to another before.

A puff of black smoke appeared to his right.

"Need eine lift?"

He looked over and saw Kurt standing next to him, swishing his tail.

"You should be in bed," he managed.

"Zey cannot hold back eine teleporter," said Kurt, "Vhere are you going? I vill drop you off. You are in nien condition to be about."

"Neither are you," David muttered, "Kurt…I'm not sure what this is…I only feel…"

"I vill leafe directly after," vowed Kurt, "but you vant to get there, ja?"

David hesitated only a second before nodding.

"Third ward," he said.

Kurt grabbed his hand and teleported him away. His feet touched tile and he looked around, getting his bearings.

"Thanks," he said.

"Any time," Kurt replied.

He teleported away and David began running again. He should have asked Kurt to teleport him closer, but if David was wrong then he didn't want to expose anyone else to his idiocy. His heart in his throat David skidded to a halt outside of a doorway, gasping and pushing the door open with his telekinesis.

Blue eyes took him in, blue eyes and familiar features. David swallowed and saw his mother sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand grasped tightly in his. He noticed that she had put the wedding ring that she carried around her neck on his finger. She smiled at David as he came in, his steps halting. He swallowed hard as he took in the scene, not quite daring to believe what he was seeing.

"I did say that I would see you soon," Charles said.

David collapsed on the side of the bed opposite his mother and took his father into a fierce embrace.

"You always did mean it," he managed.


	73. Chapter 73

The news that the Professor's transfer had worked spread like wildfire around the island. Mystique listened with confusion and then resolution. Charles was alive again. It was right; it meant that things were once again as they should be. The world wasn't ready to live without him and Mystique truly believed that the Brotherhood needed him to be in control of their opposition. They knew what to expect from him, and if anyone could train mutants it was him. Whether those mutants stayed with him or not was a completely different thing, in which case they benefitted from his expertise.

It also meant that it was time to leave. Her powers had all but returned and she no longer needed medical care. Besides, soon he would be asking for her and Mystique could never manage the courage to talk to him. She remembered the looks he gave her when she came to the mansion to see Lorna, looks of gratitude mixed with confusion. He had been wondering where exactly his little sister had gone.

She didn't want to show him that Raven was nearly completely gone now. If he needed to preserve some image of her as she had been to hold affection for her, then that was fine. As far as she had been concerned he had never really loved the real her, what she could be. He had tried, but in the end it had never been enough.

Erik knew this too. That was why he showed up outside her door midnight the day Charles woke up. She gave him a brief nod and walked out of the door. She had nothing that she was going to bring with her, and from the emptiness of Erik's hands, he had nothing he wanted to bring either.

"Did you say goodbye to anyone?" she asked.

He shook his head. Mystique wondered if Lorna was sleeping iin her perfect room at her perfect home, believing her father was still in the guest bedroom. Her children probably thought the same about their grandfather. Luna might be planning to ask him to take her to the park the next day. She smiled to herself, wondering about the amount of pain he was in at the moment.

"That's alright; your grandchildren are too young to care," Mystique said.

He glared at her and she smiled secretly to herself. She could hurt him too. Mystique knew better than to push it though and walked in silence to the docks. They could steal a boat from there and leave quietly. By this time tomorrow they could be stirring up more trouble; even with the Sefton Suit gaining momentum the public outcry in the mutant community was still going to be great.

They had picked out a likely looking boat and had started to untie it when a 'bamf' noise shattered the air, followed quickly by another one. She turned around to see Charles there in his wheelchair, his head resting on one of his hands. Part of her couldn't believe that his infirmity had carried over, but it made sense in a way. The body had changed to what he remembered his being like after all.

He sighed when he looked at them and shook his head.

"You were offered temporary amnesty," he said, "There was no need to sneak away in the middle of the night."

Erik shook his head.

"I was hoping to avoid this."

"Confrontation?" asked Charles, "Or just talking to me?"

Mystique turned away. She couldn't look at him.

"I don't blame you for what happened Erik," he said, "And I would like to thank you and Raven for helping to save me."

"You would have done the same," Erik said, "But the truce is at an end, and life continues as it was."

She could hear Charles sigh again, but didn't dare look around.

"I will admit that the times in between are becoming fewer and fewer, much fewer than I originally thought," he said, "But I will have it known that the chessboard is always set up. And if your need is ever like it was this summer, then we will still be here."

He paused again.

"Raven, please look at me."

Reluctantly she did so.

"Raven's gone Charles," she said.

Charles smiled sadly.

"I'm never going to fully believe that," he said, "You know that. And I'll never fully believe you won't someday find peace, both of you. It's a fool's hope, I'll admit, but a hope nonetheless."

Mystique shook her head.

"When are you going to understand that we're doing what needs to be done?" she asked.

"When you understand that I'm right," Charles said, his mouth turning up into a mirthless smile, "Though I am glad your pride and our past history didn't stop you from accepting our help."

"It was hard to say no when the terms are so generous. Your son is rather like you," Erik said.

Charles smiled, the first genuine one that Mystique had seen that night.

"He is, isn't he? Or at least he tries to be," said Charles, "There's enough of his mother in him to balance the me out though."

Mystique felt awkward, knowing she was supposed to say something.

"Moira did do a decent job," she admitted grudgingly.

She saw her brother smile again. Mystique knew that it was the only compliment she had ever paid Moira and it was likely to be the last. Erik cleared his throat.

"It's time for us to be going Charles," he said.

Charles held up a hand.

"Not quite yet. There are others who would have words with you."

A loud 'bamf' filled the air again. Mystique dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands as Kurt appeared with Lorna. 

* * *

><p>Lorna was wearing her nightgown and dressing robe, her eyes still heavy with sleep. Erik wondered how long she had been asleep before Kurt had woken her up. She walked forward a little unsteadily and put a hand on his shoulder. Lorna jerked her head to the side and he nodded, the two separating a little from the group.<p>

"You weren't going to say goodbye," she said calmly.

"No."

"Any reason for that?" asked Lorna.

Erik rubbed his temples.

"I wanted to avoid this…this…I didn't want-"

"-a repeat of when I was seventeen?" asked Lorna.

She sounded tired, and not just from being recently woken up.

"Yes," he sighed.

Lorna shook her head.

"Dad, there's something about the two of us I've learned," she said, "something I was prepared for from the moment I volunteered to get you. This was going to end badly for both of us, and it was going to be painful, no matter what we did. It was unavoidable."

She stopped walking and grasped his hand. When she looked up again his eyes scanned her face. It wasn't the face of the broken-hearted child he had left behind on the grounds of the Westchester school. It was the face of a woman grown with a family of her own, a woman with more wisdom of the world in her eyes, and a woman reliving an old pain.

Erik sighed.

"You were always quite clever."

Lorna gave a quick smile.

"I know you won't stay behind to say goodbye to the children," she said, "They're going to be upset about that."

"What will you tell them?" he asked.

"Something," Lorna said vaguely.

"And when will you tell them who I really am?" asked Erik.

She paused.

"Alex and I were thinking in a year or so for Will and Tom," she said, "Longer for Luna, but I think she already knows."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Not who you are exactly," Lorna said, "But what you are I suppose, maybe a little of what you've done. She thinks you're good…loves you...but I've known for a while that she can see these colors. I'm not sure what they mean; emotions I think. We haven't investigated; she's too young for us to be pushing her powers on her. Yet…I just feel like I should warn you."

One of her hands flattened on her chest and spread out.

"Luna says you have this dark thing growing right here, over your heart," said Lorna, "She said she's never saw anything like it, and she's seen a great deal. I don't know what it means, but it scared her."

"Oh," he said, not sure what to make of that, "Oh."

"I just think you should know what your life is doing to you," whispered Lorna, "But I want you to know that…I've really enjoyed what we had for a few weeks. None of it was real, not really, but…I'm grateful for it."

"You deserved more," Erik said, thinking regretfully of the daughter who had grown up without knowing her father.

"We have to take what we can get," she said.

Looking again like the girl she had been Lorna hugged him for a moment before releasing him. No further words were said. 

* * *

><p>"I'm surprised you want to talk to me."<p>

Kurt shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. He'd taken her aside like Lorna had done with her father. It was evident this had been discussed beforehand.

"I haf spoken to miene vater," he said.

Mystique looked at him sharply. She couldn't have heard him right.

"Azazel," he clarified, "Amanda told me vhat she heard."

"I didn't think she would," Mystique said.

"Und vhy not?"

"It would hurt you," said Mystique, "I thought she cared about you more than that."

Kurt shook his head.

"I am sorry zat you do not understand lofe," he said, "Zometimz lofe ist about doing ze right zing, not safing from hurt."

Inwardly she gaped. If not for the DNA test Mystique would never have believed that Kurt was her son.

"So," she said.

With a slight pause he ran a hand through his hair.

"Zo mutter," he said, "I know zat somezing inside you cares zat you haf a son."

"I wouldn't bet the farm on that."

"You used yourself as a shield for me against ze Phoenix," Kurt reasoned, "Zat meant somezing."

Mystique stayed silent. She didn't have anything to say to that.

"Und…vhen I spoke to miene vater," he said, "I realized zat, in a vay, he vanted vhat vas best for me. From his mind anyvay."

Kurt made a vague gesture.

"It vas vrong, ja," he said, "Neizer of you did ze right thing."

"Is this sermon over yet?" asked Mystique.

"Almost," Kurt said, "But…you did not vant to gif me to miene onkel because you vanted me to go avay. You vould haf had eiene abortion ozervise. You…zought I vould be happy vith zem, grow up in ze right vay. Zat ist vhat I chose to beliefe."

"You're fooling yourself," she said harshly, wishing she could bring herself to say the truth just once.

"Nien, I do not zink I am," replied Kurt, "At vone point in your life you cared about your son, und still do a little. Zat ist enough."

"If you want someone to care about you then why don't you run after your father?" snapped Mystique, "He certainly cares."

Kurt gave her an even look.

"Mutter, both you und vater used me in different vays for different reasons," he said, "But I vas still used by you two like zome object to be bartered or gifen avay, zomezing zat did not haf its own life. It is hard to acknowledge zis. Inside I vant to run avay right now. But I am talking to you because I beliefe zat zis may be my last chance. I resent und am angry at ze zings zat both of you did to me because I vas not born under ze best circumstances."

He took a deep breath.

"But you gafe me life; I appreciate zat," he said, "I appreciate zat he vatched ofer me, zat you vanted to take me to a place zat vould be safe because you zought you could not be eiene mutter. I appreciate zat niezer of you vanted to raise me amongst ze Brozerhood. Danke for zat."

Venomous words made their way up her throat.

"The woman that I am looks at you and thinks you're weak for thanking us for the scraps that we gave you, things other children don't even think about," she said, "And she can only look at you with disgust."

He closed his eyes and clenched his rosary, looking away. She bit her lip as another tirade made it's way to her lips. This she managed to swallow them. It was a struggle, but this time she made the right words come.

"But Raven…," said Mystique, "She…she always wanted a son like you."

His eyes opened and for a second gold met gold.

"Zen miene onkel ist right," he said, "Zere is still some of her left."

Feeling guilty she glanced around. No one was looking at her. She gave him a quick nod before getting on the boat. Erik was already waiting for her, starting up the engine. As she looked behind her she saw that her son had moved so he was standing next to her brother. Lorna came up from behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

With that image in her mind's eye she turned away, never to turn back.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **Only one more chapter to go. _


	74. Chapter 74

_We won't say our goodbyes you know it's better that way  
>We won't break, we won't die<br>It's just a moment of change  
>All we are, all we are, is everything that's right<br>All we need, all we need, a lover's alibi- "All We Are" by OneRepublic_

* * *

><p>When Emma first opened her eyes she was confused. She had been under the impression that, once the Phoenix was done with her, she would find herself in hell. It made the most sense after all. She had no illusions about the kind of life that she had led. At least there she'd be able to find Shaw and her father. That would be her sole consolation, seeing them burning with her.<p>

So when she awoke and saw a hospital room she was more than a little surprised. Emma pushed herself up and everything hurt. She turned her head and saw Megan sleeping, hunched up in a chair, next to her. Wincing Emma concentrated and gave her a slight mental shock to wake her up. Emma didn't have the reach to shake her awake.

Her daughter's black eyes flew open and stared at her. Immediately she got up and flung herself into Emma's arms. The motion caused a stabbing pain to start in her torso, the breath getting knocked out of her, but Emma didn't say anything. Megan was crying, a sure sign that Emma had indeed been close to death. When Megan finally pulled away she stared at her fiercely, tears staining her face.

"Don't you **ever** do that to me again," she said.

"I'll do my best," Emma said, stroking Megan's hair lovingly, "Now, did it work?"

Megan nodded.

"The Phoenix is gone," she said, "And Professor Xavier's mind was successfully moved to a comatose patient."

"Mission accomplished then," said Emma, smiling weakly, "Time to get going then."

Megan blinked at her, her eyes wide.

"But you just woke up!" she protested, "You need more medical attention and-"

Emma waved her words away.

"I'm fine," she said, "if you can get my clothes and teleport me to the chopper then everything will be fine. A shot of adrenaline too I think."

"But-"

"I'm not arguing about this Megan," Emma said tartly, "If you really think I should then I'll check with my doctors when we get home. Now I would appreciate you doing what I say."

She saw Megan hesitate before teleporting away. Her obedience had been drilled too deep into her to disobey when Emma took that tone. Emma hated speaking to her after the traumatic experiences Megan had been through but she had to get away from the island. Yes, she was running. There were a lot of things that she didn't want to face, things she thought that she wouldn't have to with her death.

Emma leaned back into the soft pillows of her bed. She felt so tired, so weak. She hated feeling like that. Irritably she yanked the IV's out of her arms. They weren't doing her any good anymore after all. After all, she was awake wasn't she? Emma fully intended to get a check-up when she got back to her house though.

Her house. She closed her eyes. With her house came her title as the White Queen of the Hellfire Club. Emma fought back tears. She was going back to her old life, one that she didn't want, hadn't wanted in years. Before her experiences with Muir Island she had become tired of keeping up the charade, spending more time with her daughter and working on her developing relationship. Now the idea of doing it again disgusted her.

The battle with the Phoenix had taught her that her strength hadn't come from the charade. It had come from herself, from a woman refined through fire. Emma had discovered that she wasn't the White Queen, not like she had always wanted to be, or thought she had to be to survive. Furiously she pushed away more tears. She wasn't the White Queen, and part of her would die if she had to go back to pretending she was now that she knew.

Still, what choice did she have? Where would she go if not back to her old life? She couldn't stay there with the X-men. Emma nearly laughed at the thought. They wouldn't take her and she wasn't sure she knew any other way to live than as the White Queen. Emma should have died during the battle, she really should have.

Megan teleported into the room, Emma's clothes in one hand and a syringe in the other. Emma frowned; she had taken quite a while. Still, finding her clothes might have been difficult. Silently Megan slipped the syringe under her skin and put the clothes on the foot of Emma's bed. With her help Emma managed to get up and get dressed, putting on the white clothes. With a sigh of defeat Emma gave herself one quick look in the mirror before deeming that she was satisfactory. Make-up would have to wait for the ride home.

"The chopper Megan," Emma said.

He daughter nodded and took her hand before teleporting them to the tarmac. Emma wobbled a bit, still feeling weak. Megan steadied her, looking worried.

"Maybe we should get you back," said Megan, "You don't look so good."

"Megan, I'm fine," reassured Emma.

Megan gave her a doubtful look. Frowning again Emma peeked into her mind. Her daughter usually didn't doubt her this much. She saw Scott's conversation with her, the offer of coming to the school. She saw Megan's hopes that the school would be good for her but her desperate desire not to have Emma die. They were all there, her view of Scott as a father figure, her desire to make a difference in the world. Emma felt a lump in her throat and withdrew from her daughter's mind. She hadn't expected that.

"I've been holding you back," she said blankly.

Megan shook her head.

"You haven't," she said.

Emma put both hands on Megan's shoulders.

"I should have seen it," said Emma, wobbling from the weakness of her body and the shock of her realization, "You're a woman grown but I never encouraged you to go off by yourself, find your own way in life. I just kept you close because I wanted you to stay…never thought about what you wanted…"

"What I want is to stay with you!" Megan said, her voice shrill, "Mom, I don't want to leave you! I want to stay with you and-"

"I should have encouraged you to go to college and-"

"Mom!" Megan protested.

"You should stay," whispered Emma, "I can get myself away but you should stay and-"

"I'm not going without you," Megan said.

Emma sighed and threw her hands up into a desperate shrug.

"Megan, there's a good life for you out there," she said, "One where you don't have to worry about people coming to kill you for power, a life of real safety. The X-men are dangerous, but less so than our life. You've been offered something good and you should take it. This offer won't be repeated when you turn it down the first time I'm sure. You should go with them, make your own life."

She gave a sad laugh.

"It's what I should have allowed you to do. What I should have done myself..."

A ferocious glint began in Megan's eyes.

"Do you want a normal life?" asked Megan desperately, "Then quit the Hellfire Club."

Emma blinked at her, feeling shocked.

"What?"

"Quit the Club, stay on the Island," Megan continued, "Become a teacher. It's what you want to do. And I'll go to the school; you're right, I do want to. But no matter what you say I'm not going to abandon you."

"I can't stay," said Emma miserably, "I…they won't want me…"

"Is this about Scott?" pleaded Megan, "He loves you, I know he does. I know it's not going to be princess in carriages with shoes but I know you want it just as much as he does. But you both have to fight for it. You can't give up."

"Megan, don't do this," Emma said, shaking her head, "You don't know that for sure. He told you he cared for me, and I'm sure he does. But it's not enough...oh Megan...he wouldn't even try to stop me if I tried to leave."

"You're wrong."

She turned slowly, seeing Scott a few feet away from her. His crutches had been abandoned, although he put most of his weight on his right foot now. Emma couldn't see his eyes beneath his sunglasses but for the millionth time she wished she could, just to know what he was feeling. Swallowing hard she looked over at Megan. Her daughter looked at her pleadingly, although her eyes glimmered with guilt.

"You brought him here," she said.

"When I went to get the adrenaline," admitted Megan, "I know you've been unhappy for years...I knew you needed to talk to him...please just hear him out."

"Megan," sighed Emma.

"Just for ten minutes," begged Megan, "I'll be back in ten minutes, okay? And then, if you still don't want to, I'll take you away. Either way I'm staying with you."

With a fierce nod Megan teleported away. Her heart sinking Emma turned to Scott. He walked up to her until he was only a foot away.

"Scott, I'm not staying," she said, "I can't. It's not who I am."

"The schools are places for new beginnings," said Scott, "You can get one. I know you don't want to go back to the Hellfire Club."

"Your perfect friends won't want me," Emma snapped, "I'm a frigid creature whose murdered and built a power base on fear."

"Ororo used to be a thief living on the streets. We have no idea what the hell Logan was, but we know it wasn't savory. My brother was a convict," Scott said, "I could go on about the members of the Brotherhood that we took in, criminals, everyone we showed that there is such a thing as a second chance. If someone really wants to change we give them the opportunity."

His hand went out to touch her arm but she jerked away. He looked at her desperately.

"Please Emma," he said, "I want you to stay."

"You don't mean that," she said.

"It killed me to know that I could have lost you without letting you know…" Scott whispered, "without letting you know how much I love you. Emma…I can't lose you…"

"Don't Scott," said Emma.

"It won't be easy or perfect," he said, "I know that. But I swear to God that it doesn't matter. I'm willing to try for you if you're willing to-"

"Don't do this," Emma said, "You don't mean it, you're just trying to-"

"Emma," he said, his teeth clenched, "Read my mind."

"I don't-"

"Read my mind."

She did, swallowing hard. She felt the familiar warmth roll into her, saw his despair at losing her. Emma nearly staggered when she felt joy at hearing she was awake and his pulling, needy desire for her to stay with him. Emma saw his feelings of responsibility for Megan. Scott wanted to be with Emma, was already beginning to see Megan as a daughter, saw that they could start a life together.

Emma opened her eyes and allowed tears to slide down her face.

"You don't have to fight to survive anymore," he said, "Emma, you don't have to be alone anymore. Stay, please stay."

Swallowing once more she stepped forward. This was, she knew, as important, if not more so, than the night she had first donned white. This was the true fall of the White Queen and the start of something else, the start of Emma Frost's true life. She didn't have to destroy to survive anymore; she had that choice again, and this time she would make the right one. Somewhere deep inside the girl with brown hair smiled at her.

Closing the distance between them Emma reached out and drew his head to hers in a kiss. He pulled her flush against him, his lips devouring hers in desperation. When she pulled away she rested her forehead against his, staying close. His arms were wrapped protectively around her and she smiled.

"I'll stay."

* * *

><p>"We have a biology position open," Charles said, "I think she'll be good for that."<p>

"We'll have to start Megan on some of the more advanced college courses," Moira observed, "I'm sure she'll fit into the standard schedule pretty well though, but it will probably be an accelerated one. She's smart and a hard worker"

"She has been in strict discipline her whole life," Charles agreed.

He leaned his head further back into the pillows of the sofa. Moira lay next to him on her side, one hand on his chest. It was reminiscent of the way they had done when they were younger on lazy afternoons in the school library. It always brought back so many memories for him when she was like that, always made him remember they had been newlywed and looking forward to the future with optimism.

They had a few weeks before he would return to the school. The X-men had already returned, needing to make preparations for the next school year. They would also be making preparations for him to come back. It would be rather interesting to see how they planned on explaining his return.

"I heard about Hank's phone call yesterday," said Moira.

"Yes, Ambassador to the United Nations Hank McCoy," Charles said, "Not officially announced yet, but it's coming. He's hiring his old staff back on."

"Our son is going to be the aide to an ambassador," Moira said, "Although I hear he's going for the House soon."

"He's certainly going to have an interesting resume when the time comes," observed Charles, "I'm not sure if he's going to include being in the X-Force, although from what I've seen people do like a war hero."

Moira laughed.

"Too true."

Charles smiled and took a few strands of her hair in his hand, twisting it around his finger aimlessly.

"Where is he anyway?" asked Charles.

"Now that Amanda's left Kurt's forming some solid plans for when she gets back," she said, "I hear he's looking at a few rings. Of course he needs his cousin with him for a second opinion. He's already planning out the method of proposal."

"He doesn't waste time."

"Charles, you had been with me for only six months when you proposed," Moira said, "And we'd been dating for five of those."

"Perhaps it's a family trait then," he said, "When we see the people we want to spend th rest of our lives with we know."

She smiled again as he pressed the back of her hand to his lips. To think that there had been a time when he hadn't had this woman waiting for him, knowing that she would stay with him when everyone else left.

"We're going to have our hands full when the Summers twins go to Westchester this fall," she said, "Although, if they're smart, perhaps I'll finally get the chance to tutor a Summers in Algebra this year."

"Well-" he started.

Charles stopped abruptly, pushing himself up slightly.

"What?" he asked.

"You heard me," said Moira, "As much as it may hurt to acknowledge, our son is grown. He's twenty-two Charles, nearly twenty-three. David is more than capable of protecting himself, and he's surrounded by good people. Now he's going into politics, going out into the world."

She touched his face.

"What I'm trying to say is that there is no longer any reason for me to remain on Muir Island," she said, "I'm giving the reigns over to Alex officially in a few days. The rest of the staff is staying on so it should be fine. And when you go to Westchester, I'm coming with you."

He stared at her.

"But, the danger-"

"Charles, I lost you," she said, her voice breaking, "I lost you and I was left with so many regrets, regrets that I didn't join you sooner. I want to live with you as your wife again, not separated like we've been all these years."

The hand on his chest fisted in the cloth of his shirt.

"And before you say anything about all the good I'm doing with my genetics research I'm not giving up my work, I'm just relocating it," she said.

"Sweetheart-"

"Charles," Moira sighed, "I don't want to be left behind. I've been left behind so much and...I want to be with you now. When you or I die, for real, then…then I don't want there to be any regrets left behind. I just want the memories of joy, of the times we had together."

Moira closed her eyes briefly and a tear rolled down her cheek. His heart twisted when he saw how much pain she had been in, how much she had lost when he had died. He closed his own eyes, remembering something that had happened long ago, a promise that he had never been able to fulfill.

_"But I can't give you anything. If...if we were to stay together I probably couldn't even give you children."_

_He shook his head when she tried to say something in protest._

_"Don't deny it," Charles said, "I've seen your mind; I know how badly you want them. But I won't be able to give you that. All you would have is-"_

_"You," she finished for him, "You asked me a question Charles and I gave you my answer. Nothing's going to change it; that's where I want to be in ten years. I can see it, can you?"_

_A single tear fell from his eye. Charles opened his eyes again and stared into hers._

_"Yes sweetheart, yes I can," he said, his voice low, "And that's why I think you should look at your hands."_

_Moira looked down. A diamond ring had been slipped onto her finger. Her hands had been so numb with cold that she hadn't noticed. She looked up at him._

_"So?" he asked._

_She reached up and kissed him. Charles' arms wrapped warmly around her. He held her close as the snow continued to fall around them._

Charles placed his hands over hers. Perhaps it wasn't too late to fulfill that promise after all. Her eyes opened again, her brown eyes staring into his blue. He smiled at her, squeezing her hand tightly.

"I want nothing more than for you to come with me," he said, "And as long as you want Moira, you have me."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"Always," she whispered, "I want always Charles."

"Always sweetheart," he agreed before sealing his promise with a kiss, "Always."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **__And that's the end of The X-Force! I just did the word count and found out that __this fic was actually 279 pages on Microsoft Word. If you've read this, you've essentially just read a full-sized book of fanfiction. Thanks for sticking with it for the 74 days it took to write!_

_I had a really great time writing this; there were so many different relationships to explore between the characters and I'm excited about the number of them I got to use. Kurt is my favorite X-man, you might have guessed from this particular fic. His ability to bring out the best in people was a really admirable quality, as well as his overall faith in the goodness of people. It was also another opportunity to use the whole 'bad-guys-with-good-guy-kids' which I enjoyed doing so much in 'Sins of the Father'. _

_Also, I had a great time using Moira as a main character. Like Emma she gets passed over in so many fanfics for a leading role. Still, they're both really interesting people with diverse motivations when you read thier history. Obviously the First Class Emma and Moira are different from the comic Emma and Moira, but still. _

_Charles and Moira obviously cared about each other in First Class. When the Blackbird crashed Charles made sure she was alright before checking on Raven. Moira was the reason these fics got written, a real 'what-if' about if her relationship with Charles worked out and, if so, why she wouldn't be in the films. __She would have to be strong to start with, which she obviously was. However, Charles isn't the safest person to be around and any woman who was going to stand with him for 20+ years would have to decide that he was worth all the heartache he'd cause. I think Moira loved him enough and was strong enough to do it. _

_I'd like to thank all of you who have been reviewing, especially actressen who has continually added the stories in this series to her community, ShiroNeko316, lovelylittlewren, QueenoftheSouthernSun, noamg, KuryakinGirl, batfan, and Coyote Blues who gave me most of the German words you see Kurt using. Thanks for reading everyone!_


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